Summer brings many things, good and bad: delicious fresh fruits and vegetables (I can’t get over how tasty new potatoes are after eating the same potatoes all winter), summer camps, over heating cars and road work.

It seems that every time I have gone some where this summer the car or marshutney that I’m in breaks down or stops to help another car or marshutney that has broken down. A few weeks ago I was in a marshutney that broke down just outside my town. All the passengers stood on the side of the road and waited for another marshutney to come pick us up. When the second marshutney arrived, I was entertained by the fact that everyone got in and sat in the exact same seats they were sitting in before the marshutney broke down. I guess there is some sort of broken down marshutney etiquette that I have yet to learn. But the worst experience of all was when the share taxi I was in decided to pull another broken down taxi all the way home. The taxi I was in was really shitty, in fact when I got in I questioned if it was going to make it home, but I’ve learned not to judge these old Soviet cars by the outside. But when the driver told me and the other passengers he was going to pull another taxi home, we thought he was crazy! It wasn’t too bad, other than being incredibly slow, until we went down hill and the driver in the car we were pulling started tapping his brakes, which made us fishtail if you can fishtail when you are in front. Then, our driver, who was crazy, started screaming at everything – every car that drove by (I don’t know why), at the other driver, and so on. Finally, as we started back up hill the rope snapped (which scared the shit out of me, but which was easily heard over all the yelling). The driver stopped, went out to talk to the other driver, got back in the car and we took off without the other taxi.

I know how you all love travel stories, so I’ll give you one more. A few weeks ago I was in another city visiting another volunteer for the weekend. On Sunday afternoon we left together for the capital. When we got to the bus station there were no marshutneys, but lots of people wanting to get on one. We stood in the cluster of people waiting for something to come. Finally, after waiting a half hour or so, a marshutney pulled up. I pushed through the group and ran toward the marshutney, while my friend Sydney yelled “go Jenny, go!”. But as soon as I got to the marshutney (first, of course), the driver started yelling at me and the others and saying that he had to pull up more. He drove forward, back to where I had been standing, so Sydney started running because then she was closer. I started yelling “go Syd!” and we were both cracking up. Syd got in first and I ran up right behind her and pushed my way on. A man got on in front of me and tried to sit in my seat, but I said “NO, THAT’S MINE!”. He got up, I sat down, and that was that.

Like in America, Armenians use the nice summer weather to work on the roads. We have had many roads around Hrazdan paved, which is exciting because the roads probably hadn’t been paved since the fall of the Soviet Union. One day I was on the main road traveling to Yerevan. It’s a nice road – it looks like an American highway, with two lanes for each direction, separated by a grassy area in the middle. Anyway, all of the sudden there was a car on our side of the road coming at us. And then there were more cars. Finally I noticed that the other side was closed and they were doing road work, but until that point there hadn’t been a sign or any warning that cars would be sharing the road. I’m so glad I’m not allowed to drive in Armenia!

Despite my traveling trouble, my summer has been pretty productive. I held the same English camp that I held last year, first a week of camp for local English teachers where they learned new teaching methods, then a second week for kids so the teachers can practice the new methods. I also held human rights camp again this year and utilized a participant from last year (who was amazing and basically ran the camp by herself), several teachers and ngo leaders from my town to run the camp, which drew on local experts, created partnerships, and will help the camp to become more sustainable. Finally, I taught at a three week international outreach camp where I taught leadership and civics lessons. The camp was held at an old Soviet Pioneer camp, and though upgrades had been made, the conditions weren’t great. The camp was all in English since participants came from Armenia, Turkey, Georgia, Lithuania and Russia. The camp was started by Peace Corps volunteers in Ukraine, last year some Armenians participated in the camp and then decided to bring the camp to Armenia. There were certainly a far share of bumps along the way, but the camp is a good idea and will go over better in the future.

Also this summer I took six kids from Hrazdan to participate in the first ever national spelling bee. The top two winners from 8th, 9th, and 10th form at my spring spelling bee were eligible to go. There were about fifty students at the national spelling bee from eight sites, from 6th-10th form. I didn’t take anyone from 6th or 7th form because I felt the 8th, 9th and 10th form students would get more out of the event -- it was left up to us to decide what six kids we wanted to bring as long as they were from 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, or 10th form. Together with Shushan (my partner teacher for this event) we went to the spelling bee and our kids were amazing! Our kids were from five different schools around Hrazdan, so they didn’t really know each other -- some had met at other English events or in other settings, but more or less they were strangers. They got along great and really supported and encouraged each other. All of them did really well – no one went out on the first round, one got third place for 9th form, one got first place for 8th form and one got first place for 10th form. So we had three top three winners! No other volunteer had so many winners, so I walked around and bragged as much as I could (naturally the spelling bee was about us, not about the kids!). Later I talked with other volunteers and they said their kids were bored, or depressed or disinterested during the spelling bee. I was shocked, my kids were so great: they did a good job while competing, they got along, they supported each other, they were polite, they made friends with kids from other areas, they didn’t pout and they enjoyed the competition. And, finally, after we got home one of the girls was so excited about the bee and being around so many Americans, she told her mom she needed to start taking private English lessons right away.

In the middle of June I held a Project Design and Management workshop together with two people from my ngo for local ngo leaders. Peace Corps trains us on the same method and provides us with translated materials, so it was easy to replicate at my site. Basically we talked about how to plan a project or program, how to find funding, and how to evaluate at the end. At the beginning of the workshop I asked the participants to think of some projects they could do without money, but they couldn’t name one. At the end, after thinking about community needs and assets, they were able to list at least one project or program that wouldn’t need money to address/utilize a community need/asset. I think the participants took a lot away from the workshop, if nothing else the idea that they can do things without money!

The next group of volunteers arrived on June 1st, the fifteenth group of volunteers to come to Armenia (I was the thirteenth group, remember?). Forty-five volunteers arrived ready to go, ranging in age from 22 to 72 and in the same project areas as my group: teaching English, business, teaching health and environmental education. They are still in training, and will finish on August 15th. I have met them a few times while holding a session for them at training. A few weeks ago I learned that one girl (a health volunteer) and one boy (an English teacher) will come to Hrazdan. On the day they learned they would be coming to Hrazdan, I spoke with them both, the boy said “I’ve heard stories about you, I have big shoes to fill!” which was certainly a nice compliment, and the girl sulked because she was upset she got the “cement city”. Jason (the other volunteer in Hrazdan) and I tried to convince her that it’s a great site, that despite the factories and ugly Soviet buildings/layout, people are great and there is so much to do. I think she came around a little bit – I hope they will continue the health and English work I have started. One day when I was at training, one of the volunteers walked up to me and said “are you Jenny?” She went on to explain that after she found out she was coming to Armenia she found my blog online and has been reading it for months. She told me that many people in her group had read my blog and one even said that after reading my blog she was really excited to be coming to Armenia. Since then several others have approached me and told me the same thing. I was surprised and pleased that they had read it.

Jason (the other volunteer in my town) and I cross paths a lot. We are usually grabbing each other for various projects (ie. Jason helps sign kids in at the spelling bee and takes pictures) and we generally have the same group of friends in town. We get together a couple times a month for dinner just to catch up and have some American time. Over the last few months we have started going to the local café (remember when the café opened last year?) and getting the same thing every time, which we call “the special”: fried potatoes, tomato/cucumber salad, greens (cilantro/dill), Armenian cheese, pickles, and bread. This is a really common Armenian meal that we are just too lazy to make, but now I’ve come to crave “the special” and its simplicity. (By the way, maybe I haven’t mentioned it before, but it’s very typical for Armenians to place greens: cilantro/dill/green onion/basil on the table, to be eaten alone or thrown in with your dinner.)

This story is unrelated to pretty much everything, but it’s funny. Remember Sydney? I mentioned her a few paragraphs ago. She is a petite blond haired, blue eyed mid-twenties girl. She lives in a small village near a bigger city where some other volunteers live. Last year there was an African-American women (Nikki) living in that city, she was in her mid-thirties, tall and very dark. Sydney was walking through town one day and a woman came up to her and said “Nikki? Wow, your skin has changed!” Ya, that’s priceless!

I forgot to tell you about my trip to the state mental health facility. When my friend Yavar was here in the spring we visited the facility. He had just finished medical school and was on a break between medical school and his residency. He is studying to be a psychiatrist so I thought it would be interesting to see Armenia’s psychiatric facility. There is one main facility that is located in a small town hours from the capital. We were there visiting some volunteers, so we asked them to see if we could go see the facility. Luckily, they know a man that works there, a psychiatrist actually, so we got a guided tour. It resembled what I’ve seen hospitals looked like in the 1950s. I was pleased to see that it was adequately clean and heated, but overall it was really depressing. People with various disabilities and functioning levels were mixed in together. I asked if they ever let them go outside, and the doctor said they do, but I doubt it’s very often. All the men were smoking, and I learned that they give each resident three cigarettes a day. They don’t do electroshock therapy, but they do use different medications. It was an interesting trip, and again reminded me a lot of America in the 1950s from the facility to the idea of keeping those with mental disabilities out of society.

One day my friend told me that her brother wanted to go to America for work. She knows that it’s very difficult to get a visa to America, but wondered if I knew any secrets. Knowing that her brother didn’t have a chance, I got on the internet and looked just to be sure. I showed her the website and told her to have him read through so he could understand the visa process. She came back a few days later. When she approached me she had a strange look on her face and then said “my brother realizes he won’t get a visa if he applies to the embassy, but his friend told him another way.” I guess I was reading minds that day, because I knew what she was going to say before she said it. I said “NO!”, because I know she was going to ask me to marry him so he could get a visa. She quickly said “um, maybe you have a friend that would marry him?” I said “no, and I can’t believe you are asking me this!” Then, trying to make a better case for myself, I said “I won’t do it, I won’t ask a friend, and besides, it’s against the law.” (Actually, I think it is against the law.) She continued which really upset me, and claimed her brother’s friend knew someone that has done it. Again I told her I was mad that she was asking me and told her to put herself in my shoes. She said “I would marry him to give him a chance” – which just made me angrier. She realized how mad I was and backed off, but I’m still really upset that she would even consider asking me!

I held another resume, cover letter, and interviewing skills workshop. This time I invited two other volunteers that have experience in career development. One of the other volunteers talked about interviewing first, and then while I talked about resume and cover letter writing, the other volunteers ran mock interviews. We had each participant write down their dream job, then we had them interview for it. It went over really well. Because there is such a need for career counseling, I decided to train a group of peer trainers. Unfortunately the idea came to me a little bit late, so I gathered the group and asked one of the other volunteers to take charge of the training.

At the end of May I got an email from another volunteer about a full four year scholarship to Utah State University for thirteen Armenians sixteen-nineteen years old. I quickly called Shushan and some of the other English teachers and bright English students that I know. The application was simple – a letter of intent, two letters of recommendation from teachers, an English aptitude test, and transcripts – but they only had two days to get it done. Of all the people we told, only one girl from Hrazdan, Arevik, turned in the application. We found out a few weeks later, she was selected! She and nine others will leave for America in the middle of August and will be fully funded for a four year degree. Of the ten that were selected, three are from outside of Yerevan (and were encouraged by Peace Corps volunteers). I can’t wait to watch Arevik change over the next four years!

I think one of the best things I’ve done as a Peace Corps volunteer is work as a network to get people and organizations in my town connected to different programs and projects. I ran into Emma a few days ago, she was home visiting for the weekend. Emma is the one that I helped get into the hospitality training program. She said “the director of the program told me that you are the reason I got into the program, I can’t thank you enough.” Emma got in on her own; I just helped her make it happen. Nonetheless, it was rewarding to see her happy and making her life better and to feel that I had a part in it.

Although August 14th is the day that I am officially done as a Peace Corps volunteer, many members of my group have had to leave early for various reasons. Peace Corps will approve early departures for many reasons (i.e. graduate school, jobs, etc), and as a result, about 80% of my group has left early. In fact, only seven of us will actually make it to August 14th. It’s hard to be one of the ones staying to the end, saying so many goodbyes is exhausting, but I know I’ll be in America with my friends soon.

I guess I’ll leave it at that and save my travel and future plans for the next update!

Love, Jenny

Spring took FOREVER to get here this year! The snow would practically melt, and then we would get another foot. This continued all the way until the end of April: the last week of April the snow had all melted, and then we got hit with one last blast, covering everything in at least a foot of snow. Thankfully, I think that was the last of the snow, it hasn’t snowed again since that day. Spring is my favorite season in Armenia; it’s the only time that everything is green. In a few weeks the hot sun cooks most of the greenery and turns everything to a muted brown and gray color, which contrasts nicely with the blah cement buildings that fill the country.

I did my fair share of moping around in the gloomy, cold, snowy “spring”. One day I saw one of my friends on the street and she said “how are you?” I said “mad, or sad, I hate this weather!” She laughed and said, “yes, I think the sun forgot us!” The one delicious thing that is supposed to come (back) with spring, but in fact beat the warm weather: ice cream! I think I mentioned in a letter in the fall that one cannot buy ice cream from about October 1st until about April 1st in Armenia. All the store clerks laughed at me when I tried to buy ice cream on October 2nd, “no Jenny, oh silly girl, there is no ice cream now, its cold.” Of course, the ice cream company didn’t anticipant the cold Spring, so out came the ice cream at its intended time.

Like last year, I’ve been talking with the kids from the school I attended growing up. For me, it’s been a really rewarding exchange. The kids (fifth grade students) have asked insightful questions and I believe they are generally interested in Armenia and the Peace Corps. Peace Corps has three goals, they are, basically: knowledge exchange, to teach the host country about America, and to teach America about the host country.

I finally had the Peace Corps volunteer initiation -- I finally saw a cow being slaughtered. It seems to me the one experience every volunteer must have, no matter where they are serving. I thought I had escaped it, but two weeks ago I was visiting my host family and it happened. I woke up and there were some men with grandpa near the cows. I asked what was happening and my host mom said “we are selling a cow to these men”. Being a little naïve and hopeful, I thought that meant they were going to put the cow in their (car) trunk and take it home. But then I saw an ax. I said “are they going to kill it?” My host mom laughed a little and said “yes, are you scared?” I don’t think scared is the right word, but given my limited vocabulary, I said “yes”, she said “me too”, although I’m sure she has seen it done a million times. I went to the other side of the house to play with the kids so I didn’t have to see the actual act, but when I walked by later, one of the men had a glorified butter knife in his hand that he had used to slit the cow’s throat, the cow was bleeding out, dying slowly, trying to escape the pain. I guess now that I’ve had that experience, I can go home. Oh, and in case you were wondering, my family got about $300 for the cow.

Despite the cow incident, I had a nice visit with my host family. At one point we were sitting around the living room, talking and watching TV. Some one asked a questions and my host mom and I answered in stereo “sev sov”, which means Black Sea. It’s the kind of stuff I do with my family in America, saying the same thing at the same time. When I was trying to leave the kids, Hamletik and Haygushik, were holding me back and saying I had to stay. They started saying things like “its going to rain, it won’t be safe for you to go.” It’s amazing how much they have grown in the two years that I have been here. Although, it’s worth mentioning that Hamletik still eats what I eat (and still, sometimes, off my plate).

One day Krist and I were riding the bus, speaking English to each other, and some boys sitting near us starting making fun of us. Of course, we both heard and understood them. So Krist said, in Armenian, “do you study English”, once the boys realized we were listening, they said up straight and got serious “yes, we do, at school #5” one boy said. Krist said, “This is Jenny, she is an American, why don’t you show her how you can speak English.” The boys made small talk with me until Krist and I got off the bus. It was such an interesting experience, I’m so used to that kind of harassment, I usually just ignore it, but Krist turned it into a teachable moment. It will make me think twice the next time some kids give me a hard time.

According to my Armenian friends, there is somewhat of a Skin Head uprising in Russia. They mainly target “black” people, which to Russians means those people from the north and south Caucasus. I have heard stories from my Armenian friends since I came here and recently heard a story from an American. One of the other Peace Corps volunteers was in Moscow, and while she was there she met up with some of her Armenian friends that live in Moscow now. While they were walking down the street, a Skin Head walked up to the man in her group and started shouting. After a minute of such harassment, they continued on their way. The scariest thing to me is that it doesn’t seem like a lot is being done to keep this group under control.

One of my friends from college, Yavar, came to visit at the end of April. Although the weather wasn’t great while he was here, we were able to travel to many parts of the country that I haven’t yet visited. We stayed with Peace Corps volunteers everywhere we went, which was great for a free place to stay. But what was even better was that each volunteer was so proud of their site, the nearby sites to see, and great people in their town worth meeting. It was really cool to see how each volunteer had really adopted, at least for the time being, their town, and were able to give us not just a tour, but an insight into the town.

While Yavar was here we observed Genocide Memorial Day, which is observed on April 24th every year. The weather was terrible on that day (we got more than a foot of snow) and when I mentioned this to one of my friends, he said “the weather is always bad on this day, it is a gloomy day.” Yavar and I visited the genocide monument in Yerevan. People that live in or near Yerevan visit the memorial that was built in the 60’s when the Armenians stood up to the Soviet leaders and proclaimed they were building the monument. Of course the Soviet leaders wouldn’t talk about the genocide, but they did cave into the wish for a monument. Although the genocide didn’t take place only on April 24th, 1915, that was the day that the biggest massacre happened. For those of you that are interested in the European Union, acknowledgement of the genocide is a serious hot button for those wanting to get in and those wanting certain nations to stay out.

On May 12th Armenia had a national election for seats in the national assembly. It was so fascinating to watch the whole political process, from the campaigning to the aftermath of the election. Posters filled my city promoting this party or that. Elections observers came from all around the world to verify if the election was “free and fair”. Before the election, I asked all my friends if they would vote, they all said “yes, it’s my right”, fully knowing that in one way or another, the election would be bought. When I mentioned that to one girl, she said “well, at least if I vote, someone else can’t buy out my vote.” The observers declared the election “fair” although not necessarily “free”; they were only observing the day of the election, not all the corruption leading up to the election or that went on behind the scenes. I did hear some interesting stories though. One about a local election, a local candidate was kidnapped and put into a trunk, but was quickly discovered. And I heard several reports of shady looking men sitting in cars near the polling stations giving out “something” to voters that stopped by the window. Anyway, I enjoyed watching the process.

I had my final Peace Corps conference at the beginning of May, called COS, or close of service. It was only for the volunteers in my group, there are only thirty-two of us left. Five of those people will stay in Armenia for a third year; the rest of us will be leaving on or around August 14th, the day we are officially done. It was a two day conference; most of the time was spent explaining how we were supposed to fill out the piles of paper work we need to do to finish our service.

Is anyone tired of hearing landlord stories? I have another good one! Last year when I moved into my apartment I asked my landlord to help me get gas installed. He agreed, and we agreed to split the cost. Gas was finally installed just before New Year this year. The price to have gas installed is 80,000 dram (about $220), that’s 40,000 dram for the installation fees, and 40,000 dram gas credit. As agreed, I paid 40,000 dram, but I never received my gas credit. I asked my landlord why I didn’t have the gas credit and he said at the time we applied for gas, it was 80,000 dram without the gas credit. I had talked with many of my friends about it and was sure that wasn’t right, so I went to the gas company. The gas company is in an old building a few miles outside of town. Once I finally found the office, it was two small rooms full of notebooks (no computer to be seen). I explained that I wanted to know how much was paid for my apartment’s installation, so the man started flipping through notebook after notebook until he came to the book that had my building listed. It turns out my landlord didn’t ask for the gas credit, and only paid 50,000 dram for the whole installation process. Now, if we were to split it as we agreed, then I should have only paid 25,000 dram, which isn’t that big of a deal. But it comes down to the fact that he lied to me in the beginning, and then again when I confronted him about it. After I did my investigation work, I talked to someone at the Peace Corps office, and they said there was nothing I could do but move out, because my landlord could just make a hundred excuses about the money. It’s bad enough to be cheated, but to be cheated and have absolutely no control. Arg!

I got a lot of comments after my last email about the spelling bee. We held the second for the year and it was another big success. The eighth and ninth form students went fifteen rounds each. They did so much better this time, they understood the way it worked and seemed less nervous. The top two winners from 8th, 9th and 10th form get to compete in the first ever national spelling bee, organized by Peace Corps volunteers, of course. The national bee will be in June, I’ll let you know how it turns out.

The Peace Corps Georgia volunteers started a Writing Olympics a few years ago; it’s a writing competition (in English) that focuses on creativity only – not spelling, grammar, or form. The volunteers in Azerbaijan joined a few years ago and we joined last year. It’s a great opportunity for the kids to be able to write (think) creatively, they never get that chance at school since their education system focuses so much on the hard tools of the language (grammar, spelling, etc.). The event was to be organized first at the local level, and then the top three entries from each grade would be forwarded to the national competition, and then the best from the national competition would be sent to compete against Georgia and Azerbaijan. On the day we were going to hold our local competition, one of the English teachers got a call from the director of the local ministry of education – he was angry we hadn’t cleared our contest with him first and made us cancel it. I pleaded with him and finally he allowed us to hold it the next day. It’s beyond me why he has to micromanage everything, but now we know to tell him about everything we are doing before we do it. Anyway, a list of questions was given to the students on the day of the contest, they had to choose between five questions for their grade, and they only had one hour to write their essay. Over thirty kids showed up -- we probably would have had more had we done it at the advertised time. Unfortunately, no essays from my town made it to the international competition.

I mentioned in my last email that this is the time that organizations submit applications to get a volunteer next year. I didn’t know, but the mayor’s office in my town applied for a volunteer. Peace Corps came to check out the office and after the visit they called me and said the mayor’s office had so many nice things to say about me, they knew all about my work and that is why they want a volunteer. I have no clue who they are, but I’m glad they think so highly of me! It was certainly a nice thing to hear, since I’m never really sure if anything I do (or have done) here makes a difference.

I was on a marshutney a few days ago and ran into a girl that I have met a few times. She said “where is Krist?”; I said “I’m not sure.” Thinking to myself, we do lead separate lives. When I told Krist that story, she laughed and said “Jen, the same thing happened to me! I was in the café and someone came up to me and said ‘where is the American girl?’, like they don’t believe we can do things on our own.” Speaking of Krist, she is going to America for three weeks to visit a university there to get ideas for the institute where she teaches. Everything will be paid for, it’s such a great opportunity, I’m really happy for her.

Remember my language teacher from my first summer in Armenia? Her name is Svetlana, or Sveta? We were very good friends all summer and I talked about her several times in my emails. Well, anyway, she is recently engaged to a Peace Corps volunteer. I am so excited for her (and for him), and they both seem really happy. (About two or three men in each group marry an Armenian woman, about one Peace Corps woman every five years marries an Armenian man.)

I have another busy summer coming up. I am running the same English camps that I ran last summer, first a camp for teachers to learn new methods, and then a camp for kids where the teachers can practice the new methods. Right after that I will hold the same environmental camp that I ran last summer. Then I am participating in a three week democracy camp in another city. Then when I return, I will run Human Rights Camp. Then, it will be August, time for me to pack up, say my goodbyes, and leave.

Last week I attended the Last Bell ceremony for one of the local high schools. It’s the Armenian version of graduation, although I would say it was less like graduation and more like a combination of prom and a talent show. There are no gowns, but all the kids wear matching outfits, which they wear for the last month of school. They give thank you speeches and sing and dance; popular and traditional songs and dances. The whole thing was really interesting, but it was way too loud, way too long, and basically had nothing to do with school other than the fact that they thanked their teachers (they don’t take music or dance in school). I’m glad that was my last Last Bell.

Speaking of last things, last week I held my final health seminar. I just come to the realization that from now on I’m going to be having a lot of lasts here in Armenia. It’s sad and exciting at the same time.

I haven’t mentioned popcorn yet, the title of this email. I eat popcorn a lot as a snack. It’s quick, easy, cheap, filling, low fat, and so on. One day, I ran out of popcorn, so I went to my store to buy some. They were out. So I stopped at one of the five stores between my house and the store I usually go to, but they were also out. A few days later, I peaked in at my store and they still didn’t have popcorn. So I tried a different store on the way home, they also didn’t have popcorn. Every few days, I would try again, at a different store. Its not like I was addicted to the popcorn, but once I couldn’t get it, it was on my mind. One day I stopped at a store near my apartment, not my usual store, but the people there know me (because everyone in my town knows me) and I asked about popcorn. They laughed and said “no, there is no popcorn, there won’t be for a while.” (Perhaps my hunt for popcorn was the topic of people’s gossip?) A few days after that exchange I was in Yerevan with some other volunteers and one of them said “hey, do you know where I can buy popcorn in Yerevan?” I said “what? Are you serious?!” Yes, he was, and so were other volunteers. Two weeks later, I saw another volunteer who didn’t know about my popcorn incident, but excitedly pulled his groceries out of their bags to show me that he had just bought two kilograms of popcorn because he hadn’t been able to buy it in weeks. Was it all an elaborate plan to keep popcorn from the Peace Corps volunteers? Are store owners across the country laughing at the success of their plan? Can you believe a whole country was out of popcorn for a few weeks?

Doesn’t that make you want to stop reading and go make some popcorn?

Love, Jenny

Sorry that it’s been so long since I’ve written! I’ll try to fill you in from Christmas to Easter…

I spent our Christmas, December 25th, at the Marriott hotel in Yerevan with other Peace Corps volunteers. There were several gatherings of volunteers around through country, but my dad agreed to treat me to two nights at the Marriott, so I chose to join the Marriott crowd. I ate Christmas Eve and Christmas dinner with the other volunteers, and we all gathered for brunch both mornings as well. We got together in each other’s rooms and ate Christmas cookies and drank wine. And, perhaps the best part of all, I took seven baths and showers while I was there!

I participated in two Christmas parties in my town, one with one of the NGOs that I work with and one with the English teachers. Jason, the other volunteer in my town, and I made Sangria for the party with the English teachers. They really liked it and kept saying “it doesn’t even taste like alcohol!” Then they got really giggly and I realized that we got them all a little drunk.

Armenians celebrate New Years from January 1 -- 13 and celebrate Christmas on January 6th. During the time between January 1st and 13th, Armenians go house to house and congratulate each other on the New Year. The women run around the whole time, keeping clean dishes on the table, and plenty of food and alcohol for toasts.

I spent the 31st at my second host family’s house. I went to their house at around 8pm and at midnight we finally sat down to eat. I was so hungry, so I started eating, but no on else really ate. Then I realized why. As soon as we sat down and said a toast, visitors started coming. People came in and out for hours, we danced and ate and drank. At 3am I finally gave up and went home, my family told that people would continue to come for at least another hour. On my way home I saw a fireworks display in the middle of town and greeted many people moving from house to house.

On January 1st I went to Krist’s house (my counterpart) and on January 2nd I went to Shushan’s house (my friend and tutor). Jason and I went to all these places together, and even got Krist and Shushan to try vodka for the first time! (I don’t know how they could live here and never try vodka!) On January 3rd I went to see my other host family and stayed with them until January 5th. I had plans to visit a different friend each day until January 13th, but on January 5th I got sick and the fun came to an end for me. When I called to tell a friend I couldn’t come, she said not to worry, most people got sick at New Years.

In the middle of January I went to America for over a month. But let me tell you, it was so small feat getting there! My flight was canceled two days in a row because of fog, so I was sent by bus to T’bilisi, the capital of Georgia, about five hours from Yerevan. I arrived in T’bilisi and then sat for four hours until my flight left. The flight went from T’bilisi to Ankara (Turkey), then on to London. I had a brief layover in London, and then on to America. I was supposed to arrive in America on a Thursday at 3pm, but didn’t arrive until Saturday at 11pm. The worst part is that my friends all flew into town to pick me up at the airport and spend the weekend with me, girls’ weekend became girls’ twelve hours.

Anyway, America was really nice. I got to see most of my family and many of my friends. I got to attend my dad’s 60th birthday party festivities and my brothers surprise 30th birthday party. I got to watch my little sister play indoor soccer, and meet my mom’s new coworkers. I got to speak Armenian with two people and even got to play my oboe on a concert. I got to eat spinach and broccoli and asparagus and tofu and I got to shower every day whether I needed it or not.

My trip back to Armenia was much easier than my trip to America. However, I did have a twelve hour layover in Munich – flights in and out of Armenia are at odd times. There were seven Armenians being deported from Germany on my flight from Munich to Yerevan and they were accompanied by seven police officers and a doctor. I never felt unsafe, but I was surprised that it was one police officer to one deportee.

I arrived back in Armenia with plenty of winter still to endure. Luckily, my gas was installed just before New Year, which has certainly made surviving the winter a lot easier. I only can really heat one room, but the one room is very comfortable, it’s so much better than last year!

Spring has tried to make a few guest appearances, but it continues to stay cold and snowy. Around mid-March I found spinach at the market again. The woman said “Do you remember how excited you were last year when the spinach came?” I said “of course, and I’m equally as excited this year!” Funny that story was as memorable to her as it was to me!

Together with the local English teachers I held a Spelling Bee, the first ever in our town. We had about 30 children from 7th to 10th grade participate from all of the fourteen schools in my town. The words we used were taken from the back of their English text books, and we only used words starting with A, B or C. Participants were allowed to ask for the Armenian translation of a word instead of the definition. The kids spelled words like bake, corner, and aristocrat. The winners received English books and dictionaries. The English teachers had never heard of a Spelling Bee before, but they loved the idea that it encouraged the kids to learn English vocabulary. We will be holding another Spelling Bee in May, using words that start with the letters R, S and T.

In the spring Peace Corps starts looking for places where they can place the next group of volunteers. Schools, organizations and hospitals can all apply to host a volunteer. I helped two schools, a hospital and one of the NGOs that I work with to fill out the application. The group of doctors that I work with said that they would never like another volunteer as much as they like me. I just smiled and said “sure you will, the next volunteer will be just as motivated and easy to work with as I am, soon you will forget I was even here”. When I was filling out the application with one of the NGOs that I work with, I said “what qualities do you want in a volunteer?” They replied with “someone just like you, we want a Jenny, just write ‘Jenny’”. And another group asked me if instead of filling out the application for another volunteer if I would just stay. All of this is very flattering, and also very typical. When I came here, all these organizations and people were talking about previous volunteers, now they never mention them.

At the end of March I attended an NGO workshop held by Peace Corps together with one of my coworkers. The workshop was interesting, and was designed to help Peace Corps volunteers and Armenians learn how to work together in regard to working with NGOs. We talked about marketing, public relations, sustainability, and assessment, among other things. I think it was really helpful for the coworker I took, and it gave me a better idea of the situations other NGOs in Armenia face. We had a guest speaker from the US Embassy, and he noted that US funding to Armenia was projected to drop quite a bit over the next few years. An interesting thing to acknowledge since NGOs in Armenia are supported 99% by international funding.

I’ve gotten to attend many traditional Armenian functions in the two years that I’ve been here; the most recent was a going away party for a soldier. Every Armenian boy must do two years of military service (or pay their way out). If they are not enrolled in university, then they must go when they are 18, if they are enrolled in university, then they must go after they graduate. My friend Ruzan’s brother, David, went to the military, so I went to his going away party. Their small apartment was stuffed with over seventy people. The men sat in the living room and adjoining balcony eating and drinking while the women sat in another room, keeping food on the table and visiting themselves. I went with some of my friends and didn’t realize we had ended up in the room with all the men. We got there pretty late, so the men were pretty drunk. We didn’t really want to stay, just to wish David a “safe journey”, so my friends asked me to stand up and say a toast so we could go. So I did, I stood up in a room full of drunk men and said “safe journey David!”. The men were very impressed with my Armenian ability, and we used the chatter as a chance to escape. David was sent to a base not far from my town, but he won’t get to come home during his two years of service. I was later told that women don’t really make toasts in such situations. Oh well.

For Easter I joined two celebrations. First I ate with my friend Lusine and some of her family and friends. It was very quiet and enjoyable, just a handful of women sitting around, eating and enjoying each other’s company. Then I went to my host family’s house. Again, it was a quiet gathering, just the family. After dinner we drove out to the closest church and lit some candles. We said the Lord’s Prayer together, they said it in Armenian and I said it in English. Dinner was the same as I remember from last year: fish, spinach, hard boiled eggs (colored red), rice and raisins and various salads. The colored eggs decorate the table sitting in a plate of lentil or wheat sprouts grown the weeks before Easter, and also provide a bit of entertainment. Each person holds an egg and hits it against another person’s egg – the person with the egg that doesn’t crack is considered the winner. It’s pretty fun and gets very intense.

That should do for now. I’m working on another update which I’ll try and get out later this week.

Love, Jenny

Hi! I had this great idea to reflect at my half-way point, but that came and went months ago. Looks like I’ll be reflecting on the last year and a half…

Cleanliness. My standards of cleanliness have changed. After going twenty days without bathing last spring, I made a change for the better – I bought a shower. The shower is a little electric box that the water runs through and comes out warm, don’t worry, its safe (enough). Naturally, it took nearly two months to get the shower installed. It worked ok during the summer months, but usually the water pressure was so low the coolest setting (of three) was too hot to tolerate. It stopped working for most of the fall months, the water pressure wasn’t strong enough to make it work, I think maybe the pressure was low because they were irrigating the fields. (Sounds good, right?) Now it’s working again, but the water pressure is so strong that the warmest setting is not warm enough.

Statistics. A recent study shows Armenia as the sixth unhappiest country in the world (can’t find the link to the study, sorry!) -- Moldova is the unhappiest and Iceland is the happiest -- and another study proves it has one of the highest corruption rates (www.transparency.org). I can’t say I necessarily see the unhappiness, but I live in an area that is moving forward. However, I have seen corruption or heard about corruption at every level. For example, my friend Edit just graduated from college with a degree in TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language); her English is great (she spent a year of high school in America and on a different occasion she worked in America as well), and she volunteers at Burning Star as an English teacher so she has experience teaching. In my opinion she is a perfect candidate for any open teaching position, especially because half of the English teachers in my city can’t actually speak English. She heard about a job opening in our city, so she approached the school director and he said he could give her the job for $300, more than she would make in the year. She didn’t agree to pay, she remains unemployed. I was shocked when she told me this story. She explained that it wasn’t that big of a deal, it was normal; she bought her way out of high school for $400.

Health. It’s hard for me to stay healthy here for so many reasons. First of all, people think that sickness roots from being cold, not from germs, so covering one’s mouth during flu season is not the norm. Second, the water is contaminated and even though I’m careful to only drink filtered/bottled/boiled water, I often eat at other people’s houses and even though I never drink the water, it’s difficult to control how, for example, the fruits and vegetables have been washed. I’m sure there are a hundred other factors: new germs, weak immune system, etc, but anyway, here is the latest sickness count: Acute Rheumatic Fever (1), Strep Throat (1), Bronchitis (4), Bad Cuts and Scraps (3), Giardia (3).

Men. One change that I wasn’t necessarily anticipating is how I feel when I’m around men. As is typical of developing countries with high unemployment rates, there are usually big groups of men standing around. There is a different idea of “equality”, on top of that, American women are viewed as “easy” -- it certainly doesn’t help that I live alone – and saying inappropriate things or cat calling is the norm. Even if a young man approaches me I get nervous and uncomfortable and always say I have a boyfriend. I do everything I can avoid men -- I wear non-revealing or form fitting clothing, I keep my eyes on the ground and if I see a group of men I walk in the other direction.

Nicknames. I am still really annoyed when people called me “Jennifer Lopez”. However, I adore when they call me “Jenny-jan”. And somehow feel really cool when the men that run the shop next to my apartment call me “Detroit” -- they remember that’s where I’m from. Ok, never have lived in Detroit, but usually when I say I am from Michigan, they ask if that is close to California (there is a very large Armenian population in California), so I offer up Detroit or Chicago as recognizable cities close to where I call home, northern Michigan.

Mindset. My Armenian friends say I am thinking and acting like an Armenian these days. Last week the water was on for 48 hours in a row, I said to my friend Ruzan and her mom “they probably gave us water for two days in a row because they are going to shut it off for a week!” They both laughed and said they just talked about that very thing. And guess what? The water was off for three days. Ok, not quite a week, but still! I know how you all love to hear my transportation stories, so I’ll give you one. I have certainly learned to play along with the locals when it comes to public transportation. A couple weeks ago I was waiting at the bus stop for a marshutney; there was no marshutney but three times as many people waiting to get on the last one of the night. I saw the marshutney pull up, so I pushed through the crowd, grabbed it while it was moving, pushed the door open (still moving), then pushed a teenage boy and a woman with a child in her arms (nope, not even kidding) out of my way, and, you guessed it, got a seat!

Patience. I would say the biggest change I see in myself is: patience. Its not that I was impatient before, but now I have an understanding for what it means to be patient. Going fifteen miles at home might take fifteen minutes, but here it is likely to take an hour. Withdrawing money from the bank might take ten minutes at home, but more like a half hour here. Waiting in line is incredibly frustrating when no one plays fair, always pushing and cutting. Setting up an appointment with the mayor for noon might actually mean 1:30. Getting gas installed might take a year. Some days the electricity, gas and water might be off at the same time, at a time when it’s cold and dark. These things used to drive me crazy, and I suppose they still do, but I’ve learned to plan for each situation as best as I can, blocking out an hour to go to the bank, or leaving two hours ahead of time for an appointment even though travel time should only take an hour.

Language. Well, I’m not fluent by any means, but I am getting along. I can express myself, and have conversations with old friends and new acquaintances. Its amazing to me, sometimes words just come out of my mouth without even having to think about it. I’m also pretty good at yelling at people that try to rip me off, my favorite insults are usually something like “you are shameful”, “God is watching” and “what would your mother say?” Oh, and…I have a bit of advice for when you are talking with a foreigner: when a foreigner smiles and nodes and keeps saying “ok” or “yes” they have no idea what you are saying (how many guys have I agreed to marry?!) or they are tired of trying to talk to you and so they are just appeasing you to get through the conversation, and if the person says “I don’t understand” that is not your cue to say it over and over again, louder each time.

Questions. I can tell you the first questions I’ll get when I meet someone new: 1. Do you have children? 2. Are you married? 3. Do you want to marry an Armenian boy? 4. Are you a Christian? 5. What do you like better, Armenia or America? 6. Aren’t you scared to live alone? 7. Will you teach me English/get me a grant? 8. Will you come to my house for dinner? I can bet that each new interaction will bring at least fifty percent of those questions, usually all of them. I used to have polite answers, but now I am honest. When people ask me if I’ll marry an Armenian boy, I used to say “well, no, its so far from my family”, but now I say what I feel “no, I don’t think most men here treat their wives very well, the relationship is not equal”, the answer usually gets a response like “you are right!” Of course, not all the men are terrible to their wives, probably more are good than bad, but its pretty telling that when I give that answer, people agree. As for the comparing Armenia and America question, which is completely unfair but I find Armenians love (love to compare anything), I usually answer with “I like both places, but America is pretty great, its my home, and we have water all day every day, and our buildings have heat!” Those answers are usually sufficient. It’s funny though, when people have that conversation with me, more times than not they say “America is a great country because it’s a lawful country.” At first I was surprised, I thought people would like America for other reasons, financial or other, but after some time, and hearing that comment from several different people, I think it’s such an interesting observation. One more question that’s worth mentioning, “Do you have _____ in America?” -- fill in the blank with ANYTHING you can think of, this question is so common, some of my favorite blank fillers are: bottle openers, tomatoes, and umbrellas.

Development. I’ve had so many conversations with my Armenian and American friends about the idea of development. How is Armenia going to develop? Most families live off of money that is sent from abroad (Russia, America, etc), all of which is non-taxable for Armenia. Then of course there is the problem of corruption, corruption at every level as I discussed previously. I read somewhere that for a country to develop, the women must be educated -- but the women here are educated. Armenia has no natural resources and problem neighbors; they don’t get along with Turkey or Azerbaijan, though Armenia gets along with Iran, the rest of the world doesn’t, and recent tension between Georgia and Russia could ultimately have an affect on Armenia.

Hurry Up and Wait. It’s fascinating (and frustrating) to me how some people are moving forward, while others don’t want to, or are stuck in the Soviet way of thinking. For example, I went with Krist my counterpart to talk to the director of the institute where she teaches English. I agreed to help her teach English since I have time and I know speaking to a native English speaker is really helpful for the English students. She was excited about the idea of team-teaching and having a native speaker work with her students. I thought the institute director was sure to agree, my assistance would be free and beneficial to his students. When we approached him, he said no, that students at his institute didn’t major in English they just took it as a general class, and besides that, I would be team-teaching and introducing new teaching methods into the classroom; something he didn’t believe in. I was shocked! How could he think and act that way? I just wanted to help because I could and he said no! Its just one example of how some people like Krist are eager to make the much needed changes while others show such disinterest in moving forward.

Speechless. I have had so many moments that I just can’t put into words, things you just can’t understand unless you are me. I’ll do my best to describe two situations that stick out among the others. I have a friend Emma, I’ve mentioned her several times before, she knows a little English, she is seventeen, a volunteer at Burning Star and she is an orphan. She decided not to go to college, so other than her work as a volunteer, she doesn’t have much going on. A few weeks ago I heard about a two-year hospitality training program in Gyumri (a city in the northern part of the country), they were looking for orphans or disadvantaged youth between the ages of 16-20 with a basic knowledge of English. I found out about the program on a Sunday and the interviews were to be on Thursday of the same week. I knew Emma was a perfect fit for the program, so I talked to the program organizers about her, and I talked to her about the program. I took her to the center of Yerevan that Thursday (only the second time she had been to the main part of the city, the first time was also with me) where she was interviewed for the program. The director came up to me after the interview and said Emma was a delightful young person and she was perfect for the program. The next day Emma traveled two and a half hours to Gyumri where she now she lives in an apartment with other girls in the program. For the first time in her life she is doing something on her own, she has her own room and her own life and she travels back and forth once a month (on her own!) to see her family in Hrazdan. When Emma and I left the interview in Yerevan she stopped just after we walked out the door and said “oh I am so happy, thank you so much!” and gave me a big hug and a kiss. The look on her face is something I will never forget, a look of hope, of joy, and thankfulness. I called her family (she lived with her aunt and uncle) after she was accepted to the program to make sure they were ok with everything, it happened so quickly and they didn’t really know what was going on, I said “are you ok with Emma entering this program? Do you have any questions? Are you worried about her moving so far away?” -- they said “no Jenny, we trust you, if you say it’s a good thing, then we believe it is.” The second experience that is difficult to put into words happened last summer at one of the eco camps I helped with. The camp was in a village on the border with Azerbaijan, a very poor and run down area, an area where the kids play with bullets that are shot across at them regularly. I was a counselor for a group of ten kids. The kids in my group were so bad, mostly the boys were bad and unfortunately I had six boys and four girls. I was pretty sure that the kids in my group would remember me as “that American bitch that came to our village one week”, for the record, it’s so difficult to handle challenging kids with a limited vocabulary. Anyway, like I said, the girls were great and there was one that I really loved, she was smart, she was quick, and she didn’t let the boys bully her; her name “Geghetsik”, or “Beautiful”, and she was just that. On the last day of camp our campers did a little presentation for their parents and other community members. Geghetsik’s mom came up to me after the ceremony and said “thank you so much for all that you have done, Geghetsik has had such a great week!” Then, as they drove away in the bus I stood on the sidewalk waving, Geghetsik jumped up from her seat on the opposite side of the bus to be closer to the side where I was standing; she pressed her face and hand against the window and waved goodbye. The look, again so hard to describe, was one that she knew she would never see me again, maybe never see another American; it was as though she wanted to take a mental picture of me so she would never forget our week together. I know I never will.

Family. I still absolutely love both of my host families. Last summer I went back to visit my first host family after nearly a year of being away. I was nervous to see them; I thought they would be critical of how my Armenian had progressed. As soon as I got to the house, the kids jumped into my arms, my host mom put out a plate of my favorite Armenian food, and the whole family praised me for how well I could speak. In hindsight, I feel so stupid: they don’t care if I can say one word in Armenian; they loved me from the start when I couldn’t say one word in Armenian. When I left they loaded me up with leftovers and fruit and vegetables from the garden, the same thing my real family does when I stop in for a visit. As for my other host family, I drop in occasionally for a home cooked meal and to catch up. They are always glad to see me, and being there is like going back home for a visit.

Friends. I have made amazing friends here, both Armenian and Peace Corps volunteers. My counterpart Krist has become a really great friend, we spend a lot of time together, both for work and for fun. I also have a great relationship with her family and they invited me over often. My Armenian tutor and co-worker Shushan is another close friend. She is a little bit older and worldlier than Krist, our conversations range from cooking to religion, from kids to politics. I’m also a regular at her house, her mom said she is very comfortable around me because I eat (Armenians are usually too shy to eat when they are visitors). Shushan has been to America twice, so she understands where I am coming from a little better than others. And then there is Lusine, who I have mentioned several times before. She is the energy behind Burning Star NGO; she is tremendously motivated and progressive. As for my Peace Corps friends, words can’t express how thankful I am for having them in my life, they are the ones I turn to when I am having problems, when I am sad or when I have something to celebrate, they understand better than my Armenian friends or my friends and family in America simply by being here and experiencing so many of the same highs and lows. I know that I will be friends with many of them long after we leave Armenia.

Landlord. I still hate my landlord. The latest? He came over at the end of October and said “you can find someone to install your heater.” I was so pissed, had he told me that three months ago I would have done it then! Last week I found some friends to come and do the work, which I had to pay for, but at that point I didn’t really care. Now I am waiting for the gas company to come and turn the gas on. (Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!) When my landlord was here with the men installing the heater, he said “you’ll need to move the furniture out of the living room for the winter while you are using the heater because it will hurt the fabric.” I said “what am I supposed to sit on?” He just shrugged. I know, I KNOW that other people have the same heating system AND have furniture in the same room. I think he just says this shit to piss me off and make my life Hell. IT’S WORKING! Just for the record: everyone I know in my town hates him! (This paragraph needs more expletives!)

Miss. There is so much that I have missed, miss now, and things that I know I will miss. Missing things like birthdays, concerts, deaths, births, weddings, graduations, and so on are so painful, and it makes me so sad to miss so many important events in my friends’ and family’s lives. But I’m thankful to know that my time away from my life in America is defined, unlike so many other people that have to live away from their families for so many reasons, like serving in the military or moving to another country to find work. Besides for the events that I have, am and will miss being here, I miss things about my life in America. I miss lettuce and cereal (not together). Well, actually, I miss being able to buy whatever fruit or vegetable I want whenever I want it. I miss having something to do on Friday nights. I miss being able to go out for dinner, and having a selection of places to chose from. I miss having the freedom to invite whoever I want to my house for dinner without the neighbors watching and talking about it. I miss being able to take a shower whenever I want and not having to worry about whether the water is on and if the pressure will be enough. I miss being able to buy things without the seller saying “what do you need that for?” or “you don’t need that.” I miss Chinese food. I miss television. I miss…

Dads. While I’m talking about missing important things, it reminds me of another experience that stands out as I reflect back on my last year and a half. Last summer at our English camp for kids we had the kids create posters based on four different themes: family, health, poverty, and education. The kids were giving the theme and a stack of magazines and told to create a poster and give a presentation in English. We were teaching them the method of “introduction, body and conclusion”, an idea that is not used in Soviet teaching. Even creating the posters was something new; again, critical thinking and creativity are not usual classroom activities in Armenia. Anyway, the group that had the theme of “family” had a great presentation: among other things they used pictures of different race families (I was really impressed with that!) and they had pictures of animals and noted how even animals have families. Their conclusion was “we wish our fathers were with us.” Ok, so they didn’t follow the format perfectly, but the conclusion was such an expression of their own feelings toward the idea of family. It was really eye opening for me.

Brutal Honesty! I’ve mentioned before about how Armenians will say “you are fat” or similar things that we would never say to each other in America and I mentioned above how Armenians love to compare Armenia and America, but it’s not just that, it’s EVERYTHING. What’s better, our apples or the apples in America? Who do you like more, me or her? Where is prettier, here or there? You get the idea. But none of that is as bad as when people compare me to someone else and they point out my faults. For example, my friend Miles came to visit last week. We were visiting with another volunteer’s host family, and the host mom said “Miles speaks a lot better Armenian that you do Jenny” and in the same day, we were at a café, and I ordered, then the other volunteers ordered, and the waitress said “Miles speaks so much better than the rest of you!” Now if that doesn’t make a person feel good, I’m not sure what does! Its true, Miles does speak better than I do, but is it worth saying something like that to my face? Why such brutal honesty? The brutal honesty doesn’t just stop there. A few months ago Krist (my counterpart) was at my house, she was looking through the pictures I have hanging on my walls and she said “Wow Jenny, you used to be so pretty! You’ve really let yourself go.” I love this girl to death, and luckily I know it wasn’t awful as it sounded. BUT, in the same week, one of my friend’s host mom asked me if I am “with child”, you know, that question all women are afraid to be asked, the question that every person fears they will accidentally say to someone else. Well, I got it.

Work. My work is going really, really well. Two weeks ago we finally opened our playground. There were easily a couple hundred people at the opening, and even through we have had our first dusting of snow already, whenever I walk by the playground, there are kids playing. Yesterday I was there and I heard a mom trying to convince her son that he had played enough, that it was cold and he needed to go inside, but he wanted to stay and play some more on the playground. My health education program is going really well; twice a month one teacher and one student from each school meet with me and a couple doctors and we train them on different health topics, then they train the children at their schools. So far we have talked about smoking, alcohol, puberty, and contraception. I love this project for so many reasons, first of all because it gets health education into the school and into the community, but maybe even more because it is giving the young people leadership skills and building youth and adult partnerships, something that I believe in. Things with the English teachers association are also going well. This year we have taken on more than we should have, including a monthly newsletter, bi-annual student newspaper (in English, of course), two seminars on new teaching methods, two spelling bees, and a country wide conference. The English teachers have not only become great co-workers, but great friends too (what can I say, it’s easy to communicate with them!). I'm finally going to start the civics teachers association that I’ve been thinking about since last summer; we’ll meet similar to how I meet with the English teachers, but each week they’ll be trained on different democracy building activities, things like volunteering, mock trials, mock elections, current events, debate, student council, Model United Nations, etc. I'm really excited about the work with the civics teachers, and they are equally excited to learn about the previously mentioned activities. I hope to start a city wide student council taking one representative from each school student council, again giving me the opportunity to focus on youth leadership, youth voice and activism. Additionally, I am holding an English club twice a week, which is actually pretty fun and, hopefully soon, I'm going to do a few seminars on nonprofit management, including tips on grantwriting, management, project development and planning.

Lucky. I am so lucky to have friends and family that care about me and are interested in what I’m doing in Armenia. I am so appreciative for the cards, letters and packages people have sent; even the phone calls and emails brighten my day. So far I have only had two visitors, my mom and step-dad Randy. It was nice to be able to show them where I live, where I work and introduce them to the people that make my life here so great. I hope to welcome more visitors next summer.

Superficial. I’ve realized that so many things here are superficial. For example, it is common for women to own one very nice, stylish outfit, this gives the appearance of a higher socio-economic class; however, they wear the same outfit everyday. Another example, the roads here are in a terrible condition, last summer our mayor paved the roads in town, but he didn’t fix the drainage system, after the first rain holes were already developing where there were dips and low points. I guess the thought is if things look good on the outside, it will give the impression as though everything is ok -- I don’t know if this attitude is something left over from the Soviet times, or if this is common of developing countries.

Informal Education. Over the last few months I’ve begun to see that so much of my work here is what I consider informal education. Many Armenians believe that drinking water will make them fat, so I’ve made it my personal mission to drop into conversations that water is very healthy, that it doesn’t make them fat, and that they should try and drink three liters a day. Recently I was sitting with Krist, my counterpart, and she said “Jenny, we can’t do our lessons here when it gets cold.” I said “Why not?” She said “well, there is no heat and it’s not good for women to be cold.” I said “what do you mean?” She said “you know if we are cold our ovaries will freeze.” I smiled and said “Krist, you will die before any organ will freeze.” It turned into quite a lengthy discussion. As I said previously, Armenians blame EVERYTHING on being cold -- if I have the flu, it’s because I got cold; if I have diarrhea, its because I got cold; if I have a headache, its because I got cold, etc. I explained to Krist that being cold will not affect her chances of becoming pregnant, but I’m not sure that she believed me. She joked with me and said “if I can’t get pregnant because you made me sit on cold chairs then I am taking your first child and I will name him or her Cold Chair.” She is such a great girl. (Just a note: I told my grandma about the theory that every sickness stems from being cold and she said that my great-grandma, who is almost 102, thinks the same way. See, we used to believe the same thing in America!)

Celebrity. I feel like a celebrity; everyone in my town knows my name and knows where I live. They know things about me, like what family I lived with, that I don’t eat meat and that I am from Michigan. Sometimes it creeps me out when I meet someone for the first time and they know things about me (even if it’s just my name), but I realize I am a source of interest for them, that they are not being hurtful, just curious. People are always interested in what I buy, what I’m wearing, who is at my house, where I am going, who I am going with, and on, and on, and on. I want to say “I’m really not that interesting!” -- it’s harmless, but I’m not sure I could live my whole life as a celebrity.

Closing. As I look back on the last year (and a half) I realize how much I have changed, grown and learned. In such a short time I have learned the basics of the Armenian language, I can tell about Armenia’s history and the greatest problems facing the country today. I have grown accustomed (good or bad) to the way others look at me and to me just because of who I am. I am used to (good or bad) not having water all day or everyday and know that bathing might just have to wait one more day more often than not. I’ve missed things in America, important things. I’ve appreciated my friends and family, new and old. I have adjusted my mindset, this doesn’t mean that I always agree with my actions (like pushing people to get a seat on a marshutney), but I realize if I don’t make these adjustments, I will get lost in the crowd. I understand now that the work I do is self motivated and am grateful I can introduce so many things that I am passionate about, and of course I try not to forget that so much of the “work” that I do is simply informal conversations. I’ve learned patience like I never knew I had patience before, and learned to let the unintentional hurtful comments roll of my back. And, maybe more than anything, I’ve learned to remember the speechless moments, because when it’s all said and done, I won’t remember that I hated my landlord, I’ll remember the looks, the moments that can’t be expressed.

Peace, Jenny

Jennifer Zeisler, Volunteer

Peace Corps Armenia

2005-2007, Hrazdan (A-13)

Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay in updating you, but I had a pretty busy summer. Here is what I've been up to...

My summer started the first week of June when the new volunteers arrived. Fifty-one volunteers arrived, the fourteenth group to serve in Armenia (A-14). We met them at the ruins near the airport just as we were met last year. Two weeks later we had a farewell party for the group that came the year before us. Also in June, I assisted with two Green Camps in other towns (you'll know what Green Camp is in just a minute).

In July I met my dad for a week in London. London was amazing: so beautiful, so clean, so full of history, and the best part, so full of English speakers! We took a tour one day and saw all the big stuff: Westminster Abbey, the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace, The Tower of London, and we took a boat ride down the river Thames. After that we just walked around different parts of the city, took naps, and ate good food (broccoli, sugar peas, spinach, things I was craving!). Our hotel was right next to the Armenian Embassy. One day we were walking down the street and I heard some people speaking Armenian, I said (in Armenian) "are you Armenian?" They looked at me, and said "yes", I said "oh, I'm not Armenian but I speak Armenian, bye". I'm sure I shocked them!

On my way back from London I met this really great family. I was sitting in the Vienna airport waiting to get on the plane and I heard this lady asking the people sitting around her how to say "hello, goodbye, thank you..." in Armenian. I thought "wow, she's screwed", and listened to the ridiculous things the Armenians were telling her. I walked over and said "maybe I can help." She saw my Peace Corps shirt and said, "I think you can!" She is half Armenian and wanted to visit Armenia, her husband is in the Army, stationed to work at the American Embassy in Greece. Together with their three kids, they came to visit Armenia without being able to speak Armenian or Russian. The best part: they are from Michigan! She changed seats and sat with me the whole flight; I told her places to visit and things to see, do, eat, as she knew nothing and didn't even have a travel book. I ended up helping them pick up their rental car (the clerk did not speak English), rode with them to their hotel, got them checked-in (again, no English). I helped them buy some groceries and exchange money, and then they drove me back to my site (only twenty kilometers from their hotel). I showed them my apartment (at which point they said "thank you for your service to our country!"), and gave them my Armenia travel book. I checked in with them throughout the week and was able to put them in touch with another Peace Corps volunteer that met them during their travels around the country. It made me feel good to know I could actually help people, and I could actually speak well enough to do so!

I arrived back in Armenian on Saturday morning and had work to do the next day. Together with the local branch of the Association for English Language Teachers of Armenia (AELTA) I held a week long English camp for 20 teachers followed by another week long English camp for 30 kids. We spoke English, taught new teaching methods (basic Western style methods, i.e. not Soviet methods), and went on a few excursions. The teachers that attended the camp for teachers held the camp for kids. It gave them a chance to practice the new methods they learned so that it would be easier to integrate the techniques in the classroom: my ingenious idea to (try to) create sustainability.

After two weeks of English camp I held a Human Rights camp. I passed out applications to all the local schools, including applications for 8th and 9th grade students and an application for teacher trainers. With the help of three local trainers, Human Rights camp came off really well. We talked about human rights (children's, women's, disability, and environmental rights), but we also talked about corruption, national assembly, debate (debate is a very new thing for this young democracy), voting, volunteering, being members of society and creating change. At the end of camp the twenty participants were encouraged to do something for the community using the information they learned. In hindsight, I think the camp should have been titled "Activism Camp".

Finally, Green Camp -- Green camp was an environmental camp for forty 11-13 year olds, and was put on by eight local volunteers and eight Peace Corps volunteers. The kids were taught about water, ecosystems, trees, littering, and animals through interactive lessons and games. Green Camp is a week of spending all day running around playing games outside - its very fun, but very exhausting.

All of the camps came off incredibly well, including 110 participants and 13 volunteers from 9-50 years old. All of my goals were achieved, and all camps brought new members to Burning Star NGO (my main organization).

Two non-camp related problems came up during Green Camp. Of course, I couldn't really have four camps go off without any problems. For Tuesday and Wednesday of my Green Camp there was no water. Not only did I have eight PCVs visiting from other towns, half staying with me and half staying with my sitemate, but I had a camp of about sixty people (including kids and volunteers) all eating two meals a day. It was terrible. What more can I say? Some how we survived.

The second non-camp related problem came up after camp was over. As I noted above, four PCVs stayed at my place for Green Camp. Everyone hung out at my place each night and we at dinner together. After camp was over, my landlord called me to his house and yelled at me for having guests. He said I was not allowed to have visitors and in the future I could have one or two visitors with his permission. He went on to explain that my friends could break things in the apartment and that he should charge me for each person that stayed, like hotels do. I was pissed. I tried to explain that the PCVs are like family to me: would he charge his family to visit? (The truth is: I believe he would!) And of course told him if something was broken, I would pay for it, I would be responsible for my guests. He wouldn't listen, so I said he couldn't control me, we merely have a business deal, and I told him Peace Corps would call him the next day.

A staff member from the Peace Corps office talked to him for a long time, he gave them the same run around he gave me. Then, maybe a half hour into the conversation he said "well, the truth is, the neighbors were talking about her, how she is a shameful/bad girl for having boys and girls at her apartment, but we just didn't feel comfortable telling Jenny that." That is a typical Armenian mindset, but I don't believe it. I don't think my neighbors talked to my landlord, they hate him, I think that just sounded better than whatever he was saying. I talked to the neighbor down the hall and she said we didn't bother her at all and she said we are good enough friends that if there were problems, she would just come to me. She also agreed that it's highly unlikely that anyone talked to him. Bottom line: he wants to control me, because he controls everything in his life and it kills him that he can't control me. I hate him! I would move, but I just paid a lot of money to get gas put into my apartment. If he does one more thing like this, I'm out of there...there are plenty of places I could live. Oh ya, and of course, after Peace Corps talked to him, I'm free to have visitors whenever I want. Perhaps I'll throw a party...

I'm sure you are dying to know what we did each night to bring such shame to my apartment. Well, camp was over at 4:00 every day. We got home at about 4:30, and then went straight out to buy food for the next day, and food for our dinner. We got home from those errands around 6:00. Then we spent at least an hour preparing dinner (it takes time to prepare dinner for ten people). Then we sat down and ate, followed by cleaning up, which took us to about 7:30-8:00. After that, a host of activities went on: some people sat around reading, some had conversations, some took showers, and some listened to music. We were split up in the different houses no later than 9:00 each night and in bed no later than 10:00. If all of that is shameful, than I am a very, very, bad girl -- I won't even get into the fact that the married couple shared a bed, or tell about the night four of us sat around singing Broadway songs.

Other activities from this summer...

I went to my first Armenian wedding; it was, umm, loooonnnggg. The wedding started in the morning and everyone went to the bride's house and danced and did a bunch of traditional stuff. Then on to the church for the wedding, which was total chaos. Then on to the groom's house for more dancing and traditional stuff, then finally on to the reception where people sat around and ate a LOT of meat and drank a LOT of vodka, and danced. There was a live band throughout the day, compromised of the traditional instruments: screeching clarinet, drums, keyboard/accordion and a singer. Since I was invited by the groom, I didn't go to the bride's house, but I got to experience everything else.

I had a stalker. Some guy started sending me text messages and calling me a ton. I thought it was a Peace Corps volunteer at first, playing a joke, so I asked one of the other PCVs to call and see who it was. It was an Armenian guy. He continued to harass me for about two months, so finally I told the Peace Corps safety and security officer. He called the guy and then called me back. He said, in a very stern, somewhat scary voice, "I told him that if he doesn't want any problems then he should never call you again.. He won't bother you any more." He hasn't called again.

Three new volunteers moved to Hrazdan, and I've been helping them get acquainted. An older married couple will be teaching English together at a local college and a young guy will be teaching environmental science at a high school. Hrazdan is split into three parts, and we all work in the different areas. I'm also excited because they are living with two families that I am very close with (remember the mandatory host family stay?), so I've had lots of opportunities to visit with them and enjoy meals with their families.

The summer was hot, terribly hot in Yerevan, but bearable in Hrazdan. The days were long, staying light until around 10:30pm. The long days are rapidly getting shorter, though it's still warm, that won't last much longer either. School will start on September 1st, yet another sign that Fall will be here soon.

Right now I'm in a bit of a slump; it's apparently the typical half-way "dip" as it's called in Peace Corps lingo. I'm frustrated by the host country nationals (I offered to teach English with my counterpart Krist to help her out - her boss said no because he didn't want us using new, non-Soviet teaching methods), I'm doubting my abilities to do anything, and I've reached a plateau with my language. As of about two weeks ago, I have one year left. I feel myself starting to get out of the dip; I have so much I want to do this year, so much I can build off of from the camps. The first year is always slow: a chance to get to know the community and build trust; the second is the most productive: a chance to utilize those connections in the community and create change.

I guess that's it from here. Hopefully it won't be another three months until I write again!

Peace, Jenny

Ps. I have mentioned the FLEX program several times in my letters. The FLEX (Future Leaders Exchange) program gives students from the former Soviet Union the chance to study in America for a year. The organization that runs the FLEX program is seeking host families for these students. In case you are interested, check out the note below.

Host families for FLEXers

Many of you may have family and friends back in the U.S. who might be interested in hosting a FLEX participant, either from Armenia or from any of the other dozen or so countries which participate in FLEX. Those families who'd like more information on hosting are welcome to contact the following people within American Councils' D.C. office: Ben Gaylord (gaylord@americancouncils.org), Tatyana Taratynova (taratynova@americancouncils.org), or Isabella Bablumian (lbablumian@americancouncils.org).

I woke up this morning and began my routine; I put on a pot of oatmeal for breakfast, and then went to the bathroom to wash my face. As I rose from the sink I looked in the mirror, while grabbing for a towel it caught my eye. It was then, through water blurred vision that I saw it. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to squeeze the water out of my eyes and the memory of what I saw out of my head. Surely it couldn’t be. I grabbed my towel and wiped my face. I looked again. It was still there.

I continued with my routine; I got dressed, and then sat down to eat some breakfast. After breakfast I went to the bathroom under the guise that I needed to brush my teeth. Truth being, I just wanted to see if it was still there. I walked into the bathroom slowly, approaching the mirror with ease and caution. I reached for my toothbrush as though it was the only thing on my mind, though honestly, it was the last thing on my mind. I bit the bullet and looked up. It was still there.

I gathered my books and other work for the day. As I walked out the door, I swung by the bathroom for one final look, and of course, it was there. This time I looked a little closer, inspecting the surrounding area. Thankfully, it was alone.

As I walked to work, I felt that everyone was staring at it. Usually they just stare at me, but today, they were staring at it. How dare it take my glory! I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day; it became my only thought, my obsession. When my coworker asked how I was, I snarled, I knew what he was up to. When I sat down with my friends for tea, I looked at the floor; I knew they saw it and were just being nice. When I passed people on the street, I could see them looking away; they were embarrassed for me or maybe the sun caught it just right shooting a ray of unbearably bright light into their eyes. Either way, I knew it had to go.

When I finished my work for the day I ran home. Children mocked me as I ran, but I didn’t care, their voices were drowned out with the voices in my head telling me what I had to do. I went straight to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. I looked at it. I told it now was the time, it had to go. I did what any other normal 26 year old would do, I reached up and grabbed it and with one swift yank, it was out. I held in my hand the gray hair that used to call my head home.

I sat down on the edge of my bed and I studied it. I’ve never seen one of these before. Well, surely I’ve seen gray hair before, but this one was different, this one was produced by me. Then I suddenly got angry. What did I do to deserve this? Why me? I pride myself on my easygoing nature, my ability to let things roll off my back. I sat there and I stared at it. I was obsessed with it. It was beautiful, yet at the same time, I couldn’t support what it represented.

The longer I looked at my wiry, shining offspring, the more I became trancelike. Soon I found myself in an unintentional state of meditation. It was then that I realized why the gray hair had appeared, it all can back to me and suddenly I was chilled, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as I realized the magnitude of what had happened.

It all began just after my last email. That message portrayed such a naïve, innocent me. I’m glad about this, I’m glad about that; life is full of puppy dogs and rainbows. It was shortly after sending that note that my world changed…

I attended church on Easter day, April 16th, the same day as in America. It was a special day, my great-grandma’s 101st birthday and my first experience at an Armenian church. I met my friends at 11:30 to walk to church. I was confused; I thought church started at 11:00. If church was supposed to start at 11:00, then why were we meeting at 11:30, a half hour late, and then walking the five kilometers to church? I asked my friend and she said “no, it doesn’t start until around 11:45, it always starts late.” I could sense from the beginning it would be a different Easter than any I had experienced before. When we got to the church it was mass chaos, people just milling around the church, coming and going and not paying attention to the priest. After nearly an hour of “being seen”, standing around, ignoring the priest, and talking with friends and neighbors, I couldn’t take it anymore. My nerves were shot; church was certainly not going to be my peaceful escape. I found my friend and asked if we could go. We went to her house for Easter dinner where I learned about the Armenian traditional Easter dinner. Traditional dinner consisted of fish, a spinach-like green vegetable, colored hardboiled eggs, and a dish with rice and raisins. I was told the rice represents people and the raisins represent the chosen people – the Armenians.

The next week I found out that someone was telling the mayor numerous, fabricated, negative things about me and my NGO. I was caught between rage and sadness. The mayor was told that I wasn’t doing anything and that I should be sent back or traded-in. He was also told that my NGO got a clothes donation and instead of giving the clothes to needy families, they were selling them. He was mad; mad at me, and mad at my NGO. What could I say other than, well, I’m not a car and my NGO isn’t Wal-Mart. I tossed and turned all night; what would this mean for my work in Hrazdan? How would this effect my reputation? Would people still be willing to work with me?

The following day I went with my counterpart Kristine to talk with the mayor. He greeted us kindly; I thanked him for meeting with us and explained that I would use Krist to translate since my Armenian wasn’t great. Then I told everything that I had done and was working on, my accomplishments and my goals. He listened politely. When I was finished, he thanked me for coming to him, and for all I had done and was doing. I put a stop to the lies about my NGO as well. He asked me to visit him once a month, and promised to support my efforts. Then he asked me to tell him who had started the negative propaganda. Even though I knew, I decided not to resort to the childish ways that had got me into the mess. I refused to tell him.

Once things were squared away with the mayor, I felt as though a dark cloud had lifted from above my head. Coincidentally, a dark cloud moved into Hrazdan the same day and brought rain, cold and even hail for the next week. It was the surprising mini-winter visit that reminded me that I still didn’t have gas.

As the chill brought the rising temperature of my apartment to a halt, I realized that something had to be done. I asked Krist if she would call the gas company and find out why over four months had gone by and I still didn’t have gas. She called and found out that my landlord had never applied for the gas, yet I had paid him months ago for this very purpose. Apparently, he was nervous that I would have a gas leak and be found dead in my apartment, and as a result, his reputation would be ruined. What’s the difference, really, either way the headline reads -- American Girl Asphyxiated To Death or American Girl Froze To Death -- the bottom line is the same. It was my landlord’s fault that I was cold all winter, and worse, this was after I gave him money and he promised to have the gas installed. Luckily, Krist is a smart girl, and a strong girl. She shamed him for his behavior and told him how he should behave. When we left, she admitted that he was a difficult man, and said she didn’t like how fake the family acted, like the way they would wait for him to laugh, then they would all laugh, stopping, of course, when he did.

A few days after the big showdown with my landlord I had a meeting in Yerevan. It’s nothing for me to go to Yerevan for a few hours, its one hour from my door to the Peace Corps door, including a couple kilometer walk from my apartment to the bus station, and a transfer from one marshutney to another. My meeting went great; I grabbed some lunch with a friend, vented a little about the landlord situation, and decided to head back to Hrazdan. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining, and the grass green from all the rain. I was sitting in the back seat of the marshutney, last row, furthest in, listening to my iPod and staring out the window. I was jolted from my near sleep when the marshutney slammed on the brakes. It’s normal for marshutneys to act in such a manner, swerving to avoid potholes, speeding, pulling over at a moments notice, and so on. But I was roused when the other passengers also started stirring. I looked out the window and saw about 30 cows and bulls in the middle of the road. Being that it was the evening, this wasn’t a shock either. But the shock came when I looked up and saw two bulls fighting with each other, right next to the marshutney, and right next to the window where I was sitting. I pictured one of the horns piercing through the window, and then through me. I gasped and grabbed the woman next to me. Luckily, something caught the attention of the bulls and they ran off, and finally, we were able to continue.

The next week I was briefly set back by another case of Giardia, but quickly got antibiotics to take care of that again. Just for the record, why is it when stars get parasites from their exotic vacations, they lose weight and play it off like it was nothing and all I get is a lot of unwanted discomfort and trips to the bathroom?

With my disorderly Easter, averted reputation disaster, landlord dispute, third case of Giardia and near death-by-bull behind me, I was looking forward to warm weather moving in and happier/healthier times ahead.

I worked diligently with my NGO members to fundraise for the much wanted playground. Together with two volunteers from the NGO we walked up and down the street, asking for donations. After visiting nearly twenty shops, banks and pharmacies we were pretty frustrated that not one person would make a donation. As luck would have it, we decided to give it one more try, a small pharmacy near the bus stop where we were going to get on the bus and call it quits. The pharmacy owner was very kind, and agreed to give us the equivalent of $10; success. After that I worked with two other volunteers to prepare a grant application for the playground. We worked late into the nights, as both of them have jobs on top of their volunteer work with the NGO. Together, the three of us presented our grant application to the review committee and were awarded the $5,000 we requested.

Things were going great.

Saturday, May 13, I team taught a class about smoking with the association of doctors that I work with. I found posters from an international NGO in Yerevan and a creative lesson plan; they prepared the school and brought their medical knowledge. Since there are no health classes in the schools, the headmaster assembled all the 9th grade students in the auditorium. I talked to them about the negative effects of smoking both on the inside and outside. To demonstrate this, I used a small plastic bottle with a hole in the top. I stuck a cotton ball in the bottle and a cigarette in the hole. I lit the cigarette, then I squeezed the bottle, making it smoke the cigarette; the bottle filled with smoke and the cotton turned yellow. The point was well made. The students were very attentive, and asked many good questions, both about smoking and about me. They asked, in this order: was I married, did I have a boyfriend, could they have my number. Seriously though, one boy asked what he could do to stop smoking; I forgot to mention that every boy in the room admitted to already being a smoker.

The lesson was a huge success and the doctors and I plan to make a curriculum, a new lesson for each month, and go to all 14 schools once a month next school year. They were very impressed with my teaching style and my lesson. It’s easy to outdo the Soviet-sit-and-read-from-a-book-to-the-class-and-make-them-memorize-everything method.

Just as I thought life couldn’t get any better, nearly puppy dogs and rainbows again, the air was taken out of my sails.

The next day, Sunday, May 14th, was Mother’s Day in America. I decided that the motherly figures in my life deserved a phone call, so I hoped on the marshutney in the afternoon and headed to Yerevan. It was an easy trip, as always, the weather was beautiful, and in fact, the driver had the windows open the whole way. It was the perfect start to an important holiday. I got to the phone place and made my first call. Suddenly, someone came into my booth and told me I had to get off the phone. I was a little confused, but when I got out of the booth I noticed that the power was out and that no calls could be made while the computers were down. I grabbed my backpack and headed to the desk to pay for my call. It was utter chaos; it seems they had kicked everyone out of the booths. While I wanted for the clerk to figure out how much I owed, I was rudely pushed by a man walking to the desk. He asked the clerk that was helping me for change; she said she didn’t have any. Then he walked away. A few minutes later I realized that when he pushed me, he actually had reached in my bag with his other hand and grabbed my cell phone. I was so angry and sad and frustrated and irritated with myself. How could I have been so dumb? I walked ten blocks or so to the next phone place and made my calls. Talking to my motherly figures didn’t lessen the blow, I felt violated and frustrated. On my way back to Hrazdan I realized that stressing about it wouldn’t help, it certainly wouldn’t make my phone reappear. Besides, it’s just a phone, it can be replaced.

I awoke from my trance, still a little fixed on my new friend, the gray hair. It seemed that yes, it was these stresses that produced the gray hair. I mean, I did, after all, have a near death-by-bull experience. But suddenly I realized: I didn’t die from the bull. Nor did I die from asphyxiation, freezing weather or Giardia, in fact I overcame all of the barriers that had given me bursts of stress or at least decided that they weren’t worth worrying about, and I realized that it’s these stresses that led to the accomplishments I’ve made over the last month. Gradually, I saw the gray hair for what it was, not an enemy, but a trophy. Yes, a trophy, a mark of achievement, like the A’s I used to get on my report cards or the blisters I would get from rowing in a regatta. I should be proud of the gray hair as it marks my ability to live and work in a stressful environment, yet at the same time, achieve great things. So thank you gray hair, for reminding me that life is hard, and that overcoming an obstacle means achieving a victory. Back to the puppy dogs and rainbows…

I know, I’m the eternal optimist, always seeing the good in life. But really, what is so wrong with that? Read on to see the world through my utopian lens and find out what I am (and other people are) glad for.

I am glad…for spinach! Buying food is always a task. I can’t go to the supermarket and buy everything I need and want in one quick trip. I go to one little market to buy my fruits and vegetables, I buy my bread from another little shop, my food from another, and any household products (i.e. soap, toilet paper, etc) are bought from yet another shop. I always go to the same shops, I like the products they carry (which are basically the same as every other shop in town), but more importantly, the shop workers are really nice to me (no matter when I go there, it is always the same shop workers). I went to my vegetable stand during the second week of March planning to buy the usual, carrots and apples, but when I got there I saw something new. Something that stood out among the potatoes, carrots, cabbage, onions, garlic and beets, yes, it was something beautiful and it was calling to me. No, wait, it was shouting my name. I looked at it, my eyes wide and my face a little uncertain when suddenly the shopkeeper snapped me out of my brief trance and said “its spinach, would you like some?” WOULD I LIKE SOME? At that moment, there was nothing more in the world that I wanted. I said “yes, please” and then I smiled and said “I’m just….its just that….I’m just…I’m so, so, happy!” I bought a good size helping and cooked it for dinner. I have never in my life tasted such wonderful spinach, it was so, well, green. I savored every bite. Spinach is the sign that spring is on its way, each week the market will fill, little by little, with more and more fruits and vegetables. I am waiting, anxiously, for what is to come!

I am glad…I have time to cook. Cooking is definitely a notable part of my day as I have to make everything from scratch. Many of the foods I buy have to be sorted and cleaned. Sorting involves pulling out foreign objects, such as twigs and rocks. If I’m preparing beans, then they have to be cleaned and soaked for at least a day. I’m not really a fan of the whole sorting process, but it’s important (I’m not big on eating rocks and twigs). Peace Corps gave me a cook book; it was created by previous volunteers and offers recipes (Armenian, American, Chinese, Mexican, etc) for dishes that can be made with ingredients in country. Some of typical things I eat include: pasta, lentils, yogurt, soup, whatever fruits and vegetables I can find and cream of wheat, granola, or oatmeal. I have canned goods from my Armenian friends too, which helps make my meals interesting, things like homemade jam, roasted eggplant spread, tomato paste, and canned fruit. There are a few western style grocery stores in Yerevan where I can find some things that aren’t available in my town (like olive oil). Some of the interesting things I’ve made include hummus, peanut butter, apple sauce and granola.

I am glad…for dinner invitations. Remember last summer how I always ate lunch at my friends’ houses? I was the village meal crasher, by default really -- I lived far from the center of town, so if I wanted to take the bus into the city for the afternoon, I couldn’t make it home, eat lunch and be back in the center of town to catch the bus. Recently, I have taken up this habit again, but without any other excuse than I like it. People always invite me over for meals, and though I do like having the freedom to eat what I want, I love the fact that I can eat with others, enjoy traditional Armenian dishes, and the best part, I don’t have to prepare or clean-up anything! I am glad…for training opportunities. Peace Corps provides several mandatory and optional trainings throughout the year. I attended two trainings recently, both which I found to be very interesting. The first was called Program Design and Management, or PDM. PDM was set up to help volunteers and counterparts learn how to build programs, set goals and objectives, evaluate and measure outcomes. I took Lusine, the most active founder of my NGO and one of my good friends. Lusine isn’t my formal counterpart, but we work together often since she is the real force behind the NGO. Lusine works for an American organization and commutes back to Hrazdan on the weekends, so she actually took vacation days to attend the workshop with me. The second of the recent trainings that I attended was a Youth Development Conference. Peace Corps brought in a youth development specialist from Peace Corps headquarters. Each volunteer brought a counterpart and a young person. I brought my formal counterpart, Christine, and Ani, a young woman, 15 years old, from our NGO. Christine and Ani were the stars of the conference. Christine is so friendly and easy to talk to, and her English is great, Ani, also speaks great English and is, well, as one of the other volunteers described her, a fireball. I am lucky to have such great people to work with, people that can go to a conference like that already understanding what it’s about, attend with an open mind, and leave with new ideas and new friends. The best part of the conference is that the facilitator had us each do a community needs/assets assessment, either by survey, interviews, focus groups or community mapping. Christine, Ani and I decided to do a survey (actually, Ani decided we should do a survey). Ani and Christine designed most of the questions and Ani took them to three schools in Hrazdan. The results are as follows:

Needs: community spaces (i.e. libraries, parks, zoo), areas for socializing (i.e. discos, restaurants), planned recreational activities, money for education, information (i.e. about community, community services, movie times), motivation/interests, leadership training (especially for girls), gender roles/relationships

Resources (Promising Practices): local, national and international NGOs, schools, institutes/universities, local professionals, young people (time, energy, new ideas)

Other: Youth are focused on future (i.e. roads, war, genocide, Armenian economy)This was really interesting to me, because this is the sort of stuff I was doing when I was Ani’s age. I loved that I could give Ani this opportunity, and that we could give the youth of Hrazdan an opportunity to express their opinions about the needs and assets of youth and the community. Not surprisingly, the other volunteers found the same needs and resources in their communities, but to a society that didn’t learn how to share in first grade (thank you Soviets!) the networking and sharing of information (both needs and promising practices) was invaluable.

I am glad…that new volunteers are on their way! It was this time last year that I was invited to serve in Armenia, which means that the next group of volunteers (which will come at the beginning of June, just like my group) have been invited and are preparing to move to Armenia. One of my high school friends, Kevin Trowbridge, put me in touch with one of his friends from college, Patricia Butler, because she will be coming to Armenia in June. Kevin and Patricia met at Michigan Tech University and as it turns out, Patricia is from Pellston, the town next door to where I grew up. For those of you that don’t know where I grew up, it is a very small town in northern Michigan. I graduated with 28 other people, and Pellston, though a little bit bigger, is also very small. It is such a coincidence! As I’ve mentioned before, there are eight other volunteers in Armenia from Michigan, and I have heard that there are at least four more coming in the next group. Ya for Michigan!

I am glad…I have good landlords. I don’t think I have told about my landlords, Ararat (yes, like the mountain) and Catya. My host mom helped me find my apartment; she used to work with Catya. Ararat and Catya are Armenian, but they grew up in Georgia, moved to Armenia for college and have stayed ever since. They are pretty well off, Ararat works at a local factory and Catya stays home. They have three very nice children. They seem to resemble a typical Armenian family (although they have three children, most Armenian families only have two), and have a very patriarchal family structure. Now granted, it’s a patriarchal society, so this shouldn’t be shocking, but my host mom and dad had a pretty egalitarian relationship, at least the most equal I’ve seen in Armenia. I was eating lunch with Catya one day and she told me how she exercises an hour everyday (exercising isn’t very common among Armenians, especially women). I chatted with her back and forth and learned that she does an aerobic workout in her living room, so I asked “if we could get the gym to make an hour or two for only women and girls a day, would you go?” (The gym is only for boys and men. I suppose women are welcome, but really, who is going to cross that line?) She said “I don’t think Ararat will let me.” I was speechless. One day, a week or so later, I was visiting with my host mom and she said “Catya is scared of Ararat”. I said “it seems that is typical for wives and husbands in Armenia.” My host mom agreed, and then asked “do you think we [she and her husband] have that type of relationship?” I said shook my head no then asked “but your relationship is the exception, not the rule.” Again, she agreed. Nothing shocking from that conversation, I just found it interesting that my host mom sees the injustice to women and the and will speak up (at least to me) about it.

I am glad…I USUALLY have electricity. A few weeks ago I spent the weekend with a friend in another town. When I got home on Sunday evening, my electricity wasn’t working. I called Ararat and explained the problem. He came over right away. He opened this large panel in the hall that connects to all the apartments on my floor and started sticking a screwdriver into various places. Now, I don’t know anything about electricity, but this seemed like a bad idea from the start. Ararat was creating all sorts of commotion in the hallway, which caused my neighbors to come out and watch. And, just as I suspected, Ararat stuck the screwdriver in just the right place -- sparks went flying and he electrocuted himself. Luckily he was fine, unfortunately and no real surprise, he couldn’t fix my electricity problem. I found out later that the electric company accidentally turned off my electricity. I spent that night in my cold, dark, apartment, but the next morning, nearly half frozen, I packed a bag and went to Yerevan. When I returned the next day, my electricity was miraculously back. One good thing came from that incident: I finally met my neighbors!

I am glad…spring is finally here. As you probably gathered from my “ode to spinach” above, spring is here. The Armenians call March “the crazy month” because the weather is unstable. But its definitely warming up, and even when there is a breeze, it’s a gush of warm air instead of the harsh winter air that was here only a month ago. And, though the mountains that surround my town still have a white blanket, most of my town is free of snow. My apartment is thawing too, the ice that used to cover my bathroom walls and floors has finally melted away and the water in my bathroom finally works. I’m sure the suspense is killing you, so I’ll just tell you: yup, the pipe that runs water to my toilet is still frozen, thus I carry on with the bucket flushing. Hold on people, we are only weeks away from a full functioning toilet, the final piece to a “good enough” apartment! (Who needs heat and hot water when there is a flushing toilet?!)

I am glad…that I have medicine to treat Giardia. I had my second case of Giardia. It was so fun! Here is what my health handbook says about Giardia: Giardia is a parasite and it is caused by ingesting food or water that has been contaminated with feces containing Giardia cysts. (Tasty!) For those that are wondering, the Post Streptococcal Reactive Arthritis, which is known as Acute Rheumatic Fever, has left my body with no permanent damage. After several rounds of antibiotics and several rounds of anti-inflammatory drugs, the infection left my body and the swelling in my foot went down. Just to be sure, I had x-rays done on my foot and an ultra-sound done on my heart. (This is in addition to the weekly blood work that was taken for about three months.) As of the beginning of February, all tests came back normal. Now I am left with muscle spasms, just another reaction from the Fever, I am on a muscle relaxant and the spasms seem to be tapering off. What a relief! The sickness count: Rheumatic Fever (1), Bronchitis (2), Bad Cuts and Scraps (3), Giardia (2), Bird Flu (0). :)

I am glad…that I have meaningful work. There is work! Wow. I feel like I am so busy! I am still busy planning Human Rights Camp for next summer, and will also be hosting an Environmental Camp at my site as well. As you know the Human Rights Camp is new, but the Environmental Camp was started many years ago by Peace Corps volunteers. Environmental Camp, run by Peace Corps volunteers, is a one week day camp that travels to six towns around Armenia each summer. Anyone can host an Environmental Camp, but each person must apply, meeting a certain set of criteria. My NGO was a perfect fit and so we will be hosting the camp for the first time in Hrazdan. We are really busy with our playground planning and tree planting, as both will be started in later spring or early summer, depending on funding. I’m also working to strengthen the organization, some things we have done per my suggestion is set a process for scheduling classes – before it was very ad hoc, now the plan is that we will make a new schedule every three months, we also held a training for our receptionists, all of which are volunteers, about how to answer the phone and greet members, among other things. Currently I am working on a fundraising campaign, and together with volunteers from my NGO I am talking with local businesspeople and citizens to raise funds for our playground. It’s the first fundraising campaign the NGO has done and probably one of the first ever in the city. I think slowly but surely I am making little changes to the organizational structure, providing ideas and doing some direct service too.

I am glad…to be included in holiday celebrations. On February 13, there is an Armenian tradition called Trndez, which means “purification”. Sort of like our Valentines Day, this is a time to celebrate couples that will be married in the year ahead, or those that have just been married. It is also the time when single people are supposed to dream of the person they are going to marry. Specifically, the person must bring you water; singles eat a salty pie before going to bed in hopes of encouraging a promising dream. I didn’t know I was supposed to be watching my dream for my future husband, so no, I didn’t see him. This celebration around “fire” and the worship of “fire” dates back to Armenia’s pre-Christian culture. It was dedicated to the heathen God Myhr or Tyr (according to different opinions and legends). Tyr was the God of science and arts in heathen Armenia. He symbolized everything spiritual. Myhr symbolized kindness and love. Also during this celebration, we eat three different kinds of sweets made from poppy seeds and wheat. When my friends were telling me about this celebration, all I could understand is that we would eat drugs and jump into a fire. I thought “wow, this holiday sounds fun!”. On March 8 it was International Women’s Day. It was a holiday made up by the Soviets, so as far as being “international” I guess it is among the former Soviet countries. The holiday is still celebrated in Armenia, it is even a day off of school/work, but the Armenians made their own version of the holiday, Women’s and Mothers’ Day, which was celebrated on April 7th. Actually, the whole month in between the two is considered women’s month, but it’s all just a bunch of propaganda really, and well, two days off of school/work. Oh, and get this. When I was looking into flights to Syria they were listed as 25% off for all women between those dates. I didn’t really understand why (I didn’t know about the women’s month thing at that time) so I just figured it was a way for the traffickers to get their women out cheaply, but in fact, it was a present for the women. See, there, I was being a pessimist.

I am glad…I finally feel like I can be myself. Over the last few weeks I’ve begun speaking up. Its not easy, there are cultural norms to follow, and of course I don’t want to be that American that knows everything, and let’s not forget the language barrier…but I’ve finally started making jokes and offering my opinion when its appropriate. I was visiting my host mom and we were watching tv; there was an aerobics show airing and we sat and watched it, not exercising, not talking. I looked over at her and said “do you think we’ll get skinny just by watching this show?” I know, it’s a terrible joke, but it’s the same type of stupid thing I would say with my American friends and family, and well, it made my host mom laugh. I’ve also started telling people, men, that smoking is bad and they should stop. Of course they know its bad, but why shouldn’t I remind them? I also got into a conversation with some Armenians about men seeing prostitutes, and told them I think its wrong no matter if the man is married or not married, near his wife of far away – it’s wrong. Actually, most of the men that were part of the conversation agreed, at least to my face. Oh, and the best part of my new found freedom of speech, when asked “will you marry an Armenian boy?” I don’t give the same cute answers I used to, like “I don’t know” or “only God knows”, nope, now I say what I really think, “no, Armenian men don’t treat their wives very well and I want better.” Wouldn’t you know-- the women love it and usually agree and start laughing!

I am glad…for the new restaurant in Hrazdan. I haven’t eaten there yet, but this is certainly something worth celebrating! We don’t have restaurants in Hrazdan, so this is really something new and exciting. One of my friends told me she thinks it will only be for men, I told her that I think that is bull shit and that I will go there together with all the girls I know. You know, it’s just me being myself again; besides, I want to eat at the restaurant too! We do have a few stands that sell food, like barbeque and a traditional Armenian food called “lamajo”. Lamajos resemble burritos; they are made from meat and are grilled between flat bread. There is a lamajo stand in Hrazdan that has started making potato lamajo. They are tasty, but I really think lamajo made from beans would be great. I was there one day, waiting for my order of potato lamajos (for those that forgot I’m a vegetarian) and I asked the two girls if they would make them with beans for me. They agreed and thought it sounded interesting. It’s such a simple thing, but a nice little victory. Again, I’ll let you know how it turns out!

I am glad…to have the opportunity to travel. I may have told some of you that I was planning to take a trip to Syria. I know what you are thinking, but no, I’m not crazy. It’s a common vacation spot for Peace Corps volunteers in Armenia because it is close, much warmer, there is a direct flight from Yerevan to Aleppo, and there is an Armenian population there, so in certain places people speak Armenian. I only heard great things from friends who traveled there before me, so a group of about ten volunteers decided we would go together. We all applied for our visas, which involved getting a letter of permission from the US Embassy first, then taking it to the Syrian Embassy along with 100 Euros. After the two week waiting period I called to see if my visa was approved and the conversation went like this:

Syrian Embassy: Hello (in Armenian)

Me: Hello, do you speak English? (in Armenian)

Syrian Embassy: Yes (in English)

Me: I’m calling to see if my visa was approved. Syrian Embassy: No.

Me: But I didn’t even give you my name! I am Jennifer Zeisler.Syrian Embassy: Oh, Jennifer, right. You have been denied.Me: *sigh* Thanks.

Syrian Embassy: You are welcome. Bye.

All ten of us found out we were denied our visas and worst of all, we don’t get our 100 Euros back. (Ok, honestly, it was hard for me to see the good side of this one, but I’m sure you understand!)

I am glad…I have friends in Hrazdan. I feel like I’m really at home in Hrazdan, people know who I am, and I know people. The other day I was walking down the street on my way to catch a marshutney to Yerevan. The men that run the marshutney stand were driving by, they stopped and yelled for me to get in, and they drove me the mile or so to the bus stop. Last week I was walking through town and a boy I had met once before called out to me, “hello Jenny” in English, and then “when will you come to visit our class again?” in Armenian. One day I was on my way to Yerevan for a meeting on a Tuesday, I sat down, and this woman said “you must be the new volunteer” in perfect English. I was shocked! Who was this woman, how did she know such good English and how did she know me?! She worked with a previous volunteer, which is why her English was so good, and well, she knew I was American because it’s totally obvious. She and her friend Olga (who apparently also speaks perfect English) want to hang out with me.

I’m glad…you are here. Yes, I'm glad you are here, reading what I have to say. But this sentiment was given to me by Lusine, one of the girls that I work with. One afternoon we were working on a project and I offered my advice. She agreed and said "oh Jenny, I'm so glad you are here." What nice gratification!

Hajo!

Jenny

Let my people go! One day as I was walking out the door, all bundled up in my 500 layers of clothing; my host mom stopped me and asked me to explain the song that was playing on the cd player. The song was “Let My People Go.” With my limited vocabulary I began to explain, “In America we have black people….” My host mom interrupts, “niggers.” I looked wide-eyed and became very serious and said “that is a bad word, we don’t say that.” She laughed “it’s not bad here.” I said “don’t say it around me.” She thought I was joking, she asked why, but unfortunately my speaking ability restricted me from explaining why it’s a bad word. She said “ok, yes, you have white people and black people in America.” I thought ‘well, we have a lot more colors than that, but how to explain that?’, so I just replied with “right, black and white.” Then I continued “many years ago the white people took the black people from Africa and sold them. This song explains that they want to ‘go’ away from the white people.” (Remember, I’m working with a very limited vocabulary here.) I couldn’t really explain any more than that, given that I was sweating to death in all my clothes and didn’t have a strong enough vocabulary to explain properly. I think she kind of understood from that explanation, but perhaps I can find some information about that song and translate it for her. It was an interesting cultural exchange. (On a related note, she always asks me to translate the terrible wrap songs that Zaven is always listening to. Most are full of bad words and talk about copulation. I just smile and say I’m not really sure what they are singing about.)

Movin’ Out. To quote my real mom’s favorite singer, “I’m movin’ out!”, actually, I moved out, but that’s not how the song goes. (That’s Billy Joel for those of you that didn’t follow.) My host family helped me find a new place and helped me move too. They were sad to see me go but it made sense – they needed the space so someone could come and take care of my host mom after her operation. Now that I’m on my own I visit often, for dinner or just to talk. It is nice to be connected to a family.

I Think I’m Alone Now. Living alone (again) is great! My new place is nice. It has one bedroom, kitchen, living room, enclosed balcony, washroom, and toilet room. It doesn’t have heat, warm water, or a shower, but who is counting? It is located on the 3rd floor of an ugly nine story Soviet building; this particular style is square, while most of the others in my town are rectangle. It is fully furnished. The people that own the apartment are in Russia working and have some family members watching it while they are away. I don’t have a phone because there aren’t any free numbers for this building. I’ve just been heating two rooms, my bedroom and the kitchen. My bedroom is heated with two electric space heaters and my kitchen is heated by turning on all the burners on the stove. Safe and efficient, huh? I’m supposed to be getting gas, but with gas problems in Russia, and the potential problems with Iran, I’m not so sure gas will be the best option. My other rooms (including the bathroom) have ice buildup on the walls. Thank goodness for fleece and long underwear!

My boyfriend’s back. One night, before I had moved out, my host mom and I were sitting in the kitchen, getting dinner ready and gossiping about the latest news around town. She said “Armen hasn’t called lately” and started laughing. I said “shhhhh, don’t say that or he’ll call.” (Remember Armen, he is a nice young man that has a big crush on me.) Wouldn’t you know, a few minutes later the phone rang; we looked at each other and started laughing. Zaven called, saying the phone was for me. I went to the other room to pick up the phone and host mom followed me. I picked up the phone, and heard Armen on the line. I nearly lost it; I turned to my host mom and nodded yes, we both broke into laughter. I told Armen I was busy with dinner and couldn’t talk, but the truth was I couldn’t contain my laughter. Does this not sound like the life of a 14 year school girl? Oh well, its entertaining!

Climb Every Mountain. If you don’t know this song, I am divorcing you. Period. My trip to Switzerland and Austria was amazing. While in Switzerland, we stayed in Luzerne and Zurich and took a few day trips to neighboring towns. Switzerland was perfect – perfectly clean and perfectly on time. We traveled around by train and walked around the small towns and cities visiting shops and cafes. And we ate. Boy did we eat. There is a reason the Swiss are known for their cheese – because it’s damn good. We took the train from Zurich to Vienna, and yes, it was as magnificent as it sounds. While in Vienna we visited the Lipizzaner Stallions and saw a chamber music concert in an old castle. We had wanted to see the Vienna Philharmonic, they are one of the best in the world, and they hold a very famous New Years Eve concert. We knew we could never get tickets for the show, as they sell out the year before, but we thought we might get in for the dress rehearsal. Unfortunately the dress rehearsal was sold out too, and to think, the tickets were only $400 dollars each. (No, I didn’t accidentally hit an extra “0”, four hundred dollars per ticket for the dress rehearsal!) We spent New Years in our hotel, away from the large party just a few streets away from our hotel. From the top floor of the hotel we could see fireworks going off all over the city – a professional show over St. Stephen's Cathedral, and perhaps a few other professional shows, accompanied by amateur shows all over the city. It was an amazing way to ring in the New Year.

Ice Ice Baby. If you don’t know this song, don’t worry, you aren’t missing anything! For the last few months people have been warning me about Armenian winters – they are cold, there is no heat, it snows everyday, etc. Finally, winter is here, and finally, I get it. It is cold! There is no heat! It snows everyday! There are no plows! Maybe there are plows, but they are scarce. There certainly isn’t any salt or gravel or shoveling. People just walk and pack down the snow until it is like ice. Thank goodness for my Yacktrax, they have saved my life so many times already! (Yacktrax are rubber and metal grips that slide on the bottom of my boots.) One day I went out without my Yacktrax on, and I fell – my poor coccyx will never be the same! Anyway, what you see on the news is true: within recent history, snow fall is at a record high and temperatures are at a record low.

Woohoo Bird Flu. Ok, it’s not really a song, but it’s catchy, isn’t it? You may or may not know that there are reported bird flu deaths just off the Armenian boarder in Turkey. That being said, it’s pretty likely that bird flu is already in Armenia. At this point bird flu offers no real threat to the general population, and you know me well enough to know that I won’t be out fraternizing with the birds. But rest assured that Peace Corps has a plan.

Johny Appleseed. Remember that song? I can’t really, but I remember we used to sing it before snack time in Kindergarten. And that’s my intro to the subject of food. The little road side stands where I buy my produce are basically down to cabbage, potatoes, carrots, onions, beets, garlic, and apples. I’ve been making a lot of soup and also eating dry beans. When I moved out my host family gave me a load of canned goods, so that has helped too. Its not that I’m lacking anything, it’s more a factor of boredom.

Doctor, Doctor Give Me The News! I, along with six other volunteers and seven Armenians, recently participated in a week long AIDS seminar. The seminar was regarding an HIV/AIDS peer training program this particular NGO oversees. The training we experienced was a model of what they would do with the youth, and by participating, we hope the NGO will bring the training to each of our towns. They talked about everything, from drug use to prostitution. I think I may have previously disused the issue with HIV/AIDS in Armenia, but the main problem is that many of the men go to Russia for work and while there they have extramarital affairs. Russia has the fastest growing population of people positive with HIV/AIDS, so it is a crucial time to educate the Armenian public. The most shocking thing I learned at the training is that often boys are taken (usually by an older brother or relative) to see a prostitute when they reach puberty around the age of 12 or 13. We might not be able to change “tradition” but hopefully we can teach people to be safe!

Cowboy Take Me Away. Remember my friend Dagen (from my training village)? We hung out a lot last summer? Well, Dagen knit me a scarf! How many of you can say a Nebraska cowboy knit you a scarf? Dagen knew how to knit when he got here, but actually a lot of volunteers learn here to give them something to do during the long, cold, boring winter months. I too recently learned. Currently I’m working on a scarf. I have to start with something simple you know!

So long, farewell…and again, if you don’t know this song we are finished,

Jenny

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, here are some things that I am thankful for….

I am thankful for rat traps! To get to my apartment I have to climb a cold, dirty, dark stairwell. (No lights because that is a community space, therefore no one is responsible for its upkeep.) Every two floors there is a hole for the garbage shoot. The shoot is old, dirty, and rusty, and often people don’t actually get their garbage into the hole. There is no dumpster on the ground level so the garbage collects on the ground, usually spilling out into our “courtyard” area. This makes it easier for the night time scavengers (i.e. dogs and cats) to find some dinner. I’m not sure if there is a garbage collection “schedule,” maybe once a month or so, but regardless, they always come way too late and garbage is all over the ground where I walk into my building. It smells great! Lately, when I walk up the stairwell to my apartment, four floors crossing two garbage shoots, I am greeted by rats wondering around the garbage that hasn’t made it into the hole. I find myself creeping slowly up the first flight of steps so that I can see if the rats are still there, and when I see them, I tear ass up the rest of the three floors, and when I reach my apartment I quickly get in and close the door, just in case they followed me. Then I have to pause for a minute because my heart is pounding and I am out of breath, not that I’m that out of shape, the excitement is mostly out of fear. First it was geese and now it is rats, damn you animals, damn you!

I am thankful for the other Peace Corps volunteers! For one week in November, I had day after day of conferences with the other Peace Corps volunteers. The string of conferences started on a Monday with Early Service Training, where they brought just my group (the A-13s) in for some special attention. The next day was Language Camp, my group was required to attend but the other volunteers could elect to go if they wanted. The third day was All-Vol, when obviously; all the volunteers were in attendance. We spent the day hearing some information on how Armenia is progressing, and sharing best practices amongst ourselves. In the evening we celebrated Thanksgiving together, all 86 volunteers and staff. Some of the volunteers volunteered to cook, everything from turkey to apple pie. It was quite a feast and a really good time. The final day of the conference was a Development Fair, for that day the Peace Corps brought in almost 90 international funding and resource organizations that we can collaborate with for our work at site. It was a long week, but a fun week too. I got to see so many of my friends, and though I travel on the weekends to see other volunteers, some (like Dagen) live so far away I never see them.

I am thankful for my Peace Corps volunteer friends. Bill, the volunteer that lives about 20 kilometers south of me in the same town where I do my tutoring, recently had his 64th birthday, and he invited me to his birthday party. This was unlike any birthday party I have ever attended; in fact, I don’t imagine my own wedding will be quite as big of a party. He shared his party with his two year old host sister (yes, even our more “mature” volunteers have to live with host families). There were easily 75 people at the party, including a live band. The band was a very traditional mix, usually found at weddings and other big parties; it consisted of a keyboard, clarinet, daduk (an oboe like traditional instrument), accordion and singer. We ate traditional Armenian “horovatz” (barbeque), and drank wine and vodka. We talked and celebrated together, and we danced. Boy did we dance, traditional Armenian style dancing, which in some ways resembles the dancing style found in the Middle East. Hard to explain, but if you come visit, I’ll make sure you experience some Armenian horovatz and traditional dancing (and vodka too!). Remember Bob and Peggy from my training village over the summer? To remind you, they are an older couple (not “old”, only my mom and dad’s age), and they were previously Peace Corps volunteers in Papua New Guinea. Well, they were called back to the States for a family emergency and I thought for sure they wouldn’t return. But finally, one month later they have done all that they can do at home and have returned! It’s amazing how quickly I have bonded with my friends here and how quickly they feel like family. (On the same note, the other Peggy from my training village, well called her not-married-Peggy, has decided to go back to the United States for good. We are down to 40 volunteers in my group, and 45 in the other group.)

I am thankful for the many Armenian friends I have made already. Although it has happened slowly, I am making friends; here are some details about some of them. Lusine and Gayane are two of the five founders of one of my NGOs. They are really energetic and fun, and best of all; they are a true example of altruism. They live in Yerevan, but come home to their families on the weekends. Lusine works for an American organization and Gayane is in medical school. In their spare time they dream up things we can do at our NGO. Emma and Edit are sisters, both fantastic English speakers. Emma is an orphan, and Edit’s family took her in. Edit spent a year in America during high school. Last week they took me to get my hair cut, and the lady didn’t charge me. We walked out of the salon, and they burst out laughing, “we know 20 salons in this city, you’ll never have to pay for a hair cut over the next two years!” Edit studies English at a university in Yerevan, and though Emma is a very good English speaker, she decided she didn’t want to go to college. So she is studying cosmetology. Ruzan and Eena are two girls that teach English at Burning Star. They are both studying English at a university in Yerevan. Both are young, 18 I guess. They are great speakers, and I love them both for their volunteerism. Ruzan just applied to study for a year in the United States, and she recently won a very competitive internship at the Peace Corps.

I am thankful for meaningful work. Work is coming along slowly but surely. I’ve been meeting with international donors in Yerevan and trying to find good partnerships between their work and our work in Hrazdan. I have also agreed to work with some of the local civics classes to help supplement the course material they have. Hopefully I will be able to share valuable lessons about voting, volunteering, and some other important elements of civic engagement. I have also been guest speaking in English classes around the city. The teachers love this because it’s good for the students to hear English from a native speaker, and they get really excited about talking with me, so it encourages them to study too.

I am thankful for some new projects. Some good things came out of our conversations at All-Vol, both in my exchanges with the other volunteers and with people at the Development Fair. Next summer we are going to host a Human Rights Camp, and I am going to coordinate the efforts most likely along with one of my NGOs. One other great thing is in the works. Steve’s (the Federal Judge) NGO is brining in an outside consultant to evaluate the effectiveness of their programs. I am very interested in this process (it’s the research/philanthropy nerd in me!) and am also interested in the outcome of the research. (The research will be evaluating the human rights school that Steve’s NGO sponsors which will help with the Human Rights Camp this summer.) This research will be held in January in Vanadzor (where I lived last summer), so if everything goes right, I’ll move to Vanadzor for the month of January to help and observe the evaluation process. My supervisor is fine with this because most things shut down in January because it’s so cold, no one can do anything. (No heat, remember!)

I am thankful for good health, albeit not so good right now! A few weeks ago my left foot started hurting and it progressively got worse and worse to the point that it became difficult to walk, was red, swollen and hurt to the touch. I saw an orthopedic specialist who looked at my foot (he didn’t take an x-ray) and said it wasn’t broken and recommended I see a rheumatoid specialist. At that point my doctors did some blood work and it turns out I have Post Streptococcal Reactive Arthritis. I, apparently, had strep throat three months ago (it wasn’t diagnosed), and I guess since the infection stayed in my body, now it has resurfaced in the form of a temporary arthritis. It’s really weird and annoying, but it should clear up with antibiotics and no long term affects. (Hopefully!) My doctors are being really attentive, and keep running tests to make sure I’m getting better. I guess I just have to wait it out. I’ll keep you posted.

I am thankful that my friends and family have their basic needs met. Over dinner one night I realized just how lucky I am, and just how lucky my friends and family are. Ruzan, who I mentioned earlier, lost her father a few years ago. Since that time, her mom has worked every day to be able to feed the family and keep the lights on. It is just Ruzan, her mom and her brother. Her mom works for my host family at one of their two pharmacies. On this particular night my host dad seemed pretty sad. They explained that they have to fire Ruzan’s mom because she has been stealing money from the pharmacy. I begged for them to keep her, since I know she has no money, but they just couldn’t. They have been friends for a very long time, and my host sister Sona and Ruzan have played together since they were young. Of course, this is why my host mom and dad were so sad about having to fire Ruzan’s mom. I don’t know if she steals or not, but if she and her kids are starving, how can you blame her? And now, without that job, what are they going to do? It’s not like she can go out and get another job, THERE ARE NO JOBS! It doesn’t take moving to a developing country to realize just how good I have it. I’ve never frozen in the winter in my own house, I’ve never sat through the pain of a hurting tooth because I couldn’t afford to go to the dentist, I’ve never had to worry about where I would find money for food, I’ve never stressed about losing my dad before the age of 50, and well, I guess you get the idea.

I am thankful for all my boyfriends. No, no, I don’t have “a boyfriend”, please people, you know me way better than that! Suddenly I find I have boyfriends all over town. First are the two brothers that run the internet club that I use. They always smile boyishly when I come in, kick the kids off a computer so I can use one, and then give me a discount when I’m done. Their mom works there sometimes too, she is very nice, although I get annoyed when she talks to me while I’m trying to send an email; she always feeds me apples and invites me over to her house. The marshutney drivers that drive back and forth to Yerevan are equally as nice. They always save the front seat for me when possible, and if they can’t do that, they take my bag to the front so I don’t have to hold it, and again, never make me pay full price. (It’s so frustrating -- let me pay people, I can pay and you are trying to run a business!!!) The generosity surprises me every time! And finally there is my boyfriend Armen, the only one that jokingly earns the title. (No, there is no chance that Armen will become my boyfriend, trust me here.) Armen is an English teacher at one of the colleges in Hrazdan. He called me and asked me to speak to his students. No problem, I’ve been a guest speaker for lots of English classes around the city. But since that time, he has been calling constantly, always asking me to hang out and telling me he misses me. I think its time to make up a boyfriend and tell Armen all about him!

I am thankful for Bob Barker. Why Bob Barker you ask? I am thankful for the fact that he encourages people to have their pets spayed and neutered. There are stray dogs and cats running all over this country (I think it’s typical of developing countries). Of course I want to pet them, feed them, and take them home. But none of this is possible. I know if I try to be nice to them, they will only shy away from being harassed time and time again, or worse, they will attack out or hunger or fear. I haven’t had any problems with the dogs or cats until recently. During our conference, I was walking down a walk way with Dagen one evening. There were a group of Americans in front of us, but other than that no other people were around. Suddenly this dog started growling at us, so I clutched onto Dagen like a little baby. The dog started biting Dagen’s pants’ leg, he tried to shoo it away, but it kept biting and growling. So with one swift kick, the dog whimpered away. We looked at each other, both in shock of what just happened, scared and sad at the same time. I hope that never happens again!

I am thankful for a great host family! Despite all my bitching about having to live with a host family, I really do love my family and find them to be great people. I think most of my complaints come from the fact that I just want to live on my own like I have been doing for the last seven years. It would be hard to move in with my own parents, let alone other parents that have no concept of living alone, EVER, especially not a young, unmarried girl such as myself. But anyway, I really do love them, and love the family feeling we are creating. Sometimes we all tease my host dad about his crazy ideas – like wanting to rearrange the living room furniture on the spur of the moment at ten o’clock at night; other times I’m part of special family moments -- such as my brother’s first time shaving. He is only twelve and already had a nice little mustache; he was so embarrassed when mom was telling me, I just laughed and said “snorhavor”, which means, congratulations! I guess with the good family stuff comes the bad. As it turns out, my host mom has to have a hysterectomy. I am sure she will be fine, but I am worried for her, as the medical technology is lacking at best. While my own two mothers had this done, I know it was done quite simply with small incisions and little time in the hospital, and compared to what my host mom here will have to go through, a much shorter recovery, albeit not so short. So with that, I guess I’m thankful for access to and the ability to obtain good medical care.

I am thankful for dryers. To get my clothes dry, I have to hang them on the line, either outside the balcony or inside the balcony. Either way, my clothes NEVER get dry. They just freeze. And what does one do with a pair of jeans that stands up on their own? Well, I take the icicle lined clothing back into my house, and then I let them “thaw” as though they were a piece of meat. Once in original form, I hang my clothes over my heater (dangerous, I know!), and then place my space heater next to it so it blows hot air in the direction of the clothes (still dangerous, I know!), and then I get the hair dryer and start drying from the other side (hair dryers fit really well inside pockets). Yes, as if I have nothing better to do with my life, I sit there like that until all my clothes are dry.

I am thankful that I was able to enjoy two Thanksgivings this year! I explained previously that I celebrated Thanksgiving with all the volunteers at our All-Vol conference. As if that wasn’t enough, I got to celebrate Thanksgiving with friends on Thanksgiving too! There were three dinners going on around the country, and since none were in my state, I invited myself along to one a couple hours north of my city. It was quite traditional, there was turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes (cause none of us eat enough potatoes!), jello, gravy (vegetarian and meat), corn bread, green bean casserole (with real mushrooms and fried onion rings), and the traditional Thanksgiving ziti (for the non-meat eaters), and of course there was apple pie and pumpkin pie, among other cookies and cakes. The dinner I attended had about 25 people; I think the other two were about comparable in size as well.

I am thankful for all of you. It means a lot to me that you are out there, reading, interested in what I’m doing. And to those of you that have called me or sent me notes, emails and packages, a big thank you to you!

I am thankful that I will be meeting my family in Switzerland in 22 days! Well, it’s pretty embarrassing after all that I’ve talked about in this message, and trust me, I know how fortunate I am to have the opportunity to travel. So yes, I am meeting my family in Switzerland for the holidays and I can’t wait. It will be nice to go from a very dirty country to one of the cleanest in the world. (One of my friends told me I should probably try to get a little cleaner than usual before I leave. Jerk!) It will be nice to travel, to see another country, and most of all, to see my family!

So, with that I’ll leave you.

Thank you, Jenny

Don't worry, it’s not REALLY all that scary, it’s just a good title.

Tutoring. I finally started studying Armenian (language) again. Peace Corps gives us money to pay a tutor so we can continue to strengthen our language ability throughout our service. In the next city south of me, Charentsavan, about 20 kilometers (50 minutes by marshutney or bus), there is a woman, Anna, that worked with us this summer. She lived and taught in another village, but her role was similar to that of Svetlana and Lala, the two women that taught me. The teachers that are hired to teach us during the summer are very good, probably the best in the country; the Peace Corps has a very competitive process and only hires the best teachers. Anna is great, just as I expected. Not only was she a teacher this summer, but she has worked with Americans for over ten years, so she is well aware of the struggles and challenges we face with the language. Currently I’m traveling to Charentsavan Monday, Wednesday and Friday for two hours of tutoring.

It’s working well, but this schedule forces me to travel by marshutney, and well, they are so full that I think I’m going to change my schedule so I can travel by bus! These are little marshutneys, there are twelve seats, but I have ridden in it with 25 or 30 people. Being cramped is one thing, but this isn’t like standing on a bus or subway, where you are perhaps a little to close for comfort. This is all around discomfort. By “little marshutney” I mean, well, when I am standing outside of the marshutney, I am taller than it, and I‘m only 5‘5“. So picture me if you will, standing in a van that is shorter than me, ok no, imagine me crouching: bent at the waist at a 135 degree angle with my head tucked down into my chest so that the back of my neck is touching the dirty ceiling, clutching to anything I can because well, the gears get stuck and the breaks have to be pumped and of course there aren‘t handles or poles to hold onto. Now imagine that I am surrounded by 20 of my closest friends that I’ve never met before, but I bond quickly with those around me because now I am shoving my butt into someone‘s face, my knee into someone‘s side, my elbow into someone’s back, I’m hovering over someone else, while I am grabbing perhaps the shoulder of another. And I haven’t even mentioned how my own personal space is being invaded and well; let’s not even talk about safety! But don’t worry; it only takes us 50 minutes to go the 20 kilometers home!

Pushed in, instead of out. I was on a marshutney riding into Yerevan, and as soon as we pulled up to the stop, we were rushed by a horde of people trying to get on the marshutney. They wouldn’t let us off! The mad rush pushed their way onto the marshutney, while we were trying to get off, but we were just pushed further in. I was smashed up against the window, trying to get to the door, scheming of ways to jump out the window. But soon enough I was able to push my way through, sort of like swimming up-stream, and I got out. There has got to be a better system!!!

In other marshutney news. Last time I wrote I told you about the dirty old man that tried to put the moves on me in the marshutney. Well, this time I have a story that will restore your faith in my fellow marshutney riders, at least for a while. I was coming home from Yerevan one evening, and when I arrived at my stop, there was a marshutney waiting. This is ideal because it means no pushing old ladies or fighting to get a seat. I sat right behind the driver and within five minutes, it had filled. Next to me sat a woman of maybe 35, with her daughter, a second year college student, who was probably 17 or 18. The woman started talking to me and I looked at her with a puzzled look. She smiled and said what she said again, I finally said, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand you, I only speak a little Armenian.” (In Armenian, of course.) So I went on to explain that I’m an American and that I will live in Hrazdan for the next two years. The three of us talked all the way home, though neither of them knew a word of English. They were such great people, and it is these encounters that make me really want to learn the language. After such a rewarding conversation and trip home, I was really energized, if that wasn’t enough; they paid for my marshutney fare! We exchanged numbers and they have already invited me over for dinner.

Taxis can be scary too! My most recent trip to Yeghegnadzor was for the Harvest Festival. I’m not sure exactly what we were celebrating, the harvest I guess, but for me it was an excuse to see other volunteers and spend a weekend in the warmer climate of the south. The festival included free (unlimited!) wine tasting, dancing, music, and tasty carnival type food. I also got talked into riding a scary old Ferris wheel in which I’m sure I was taking a gamble on my life (I survived).

To get to Yeghegnadzor, I got together with four other volunteers and we decided to take a taxi rather than a marshutney. I’m not sure why we decided to do this; it’s about twice as much per person and probably takes about the same amount of time. If we were looking for comfort, than we shouldn’t have decided to travel in a pack of five, which meant four of us had to share the backseat. It wasn’t bad though, we had great conversations and made good time getting to Yeghegnadzor. As we walked up to the taxi we ran into some other volunteers who knew the taxi driver. They said, “Oh, this is the white supremacy guy.” As it turns out, four guys rode with this man one time last year, and he started lecturing them about white power, stopped at a monument and toasted a few shots of vodka to a famous white supremacy Armenian, then he showed them all his paraphernalia, including a white power newspaper. Well, we hopped in not too worried about it, but it is worth mentioning that in this group of 5 there were three Jews -- Steve (the Federal judge), another guy Chris who is a half Jew and me, also a half. (Again, I survived!)

Asphyxiation. On my way home from Yeghegnadzor I took up with a group of volunteers heading back to Yerevan. We took up the back half of the marshutney, which was great because we could talk freely and people couldn’t really stare. Anyway, I was sitting in the last seat, a row of four, which I shared with three other PCVs. Eric, the guy sitting next to me, and I immediately noticed that the exhaust was coming into the van rather than going out. The two and a half hour ride got really interesting without oxygen. At first I embraced the dizziness, enjoying the legality of the “drug”, but the dizziness soon turned to nausea, and with that came the burning in my eyes and nose. When we finally got to Yerevan I realized I was covered in nastiness from the exhaust, a black film covered my face and a dark black substance found its home under my nails. Boy, I love public transportation!

One final marshutney story. I traveled down south once more for a Halloween party at a friend’s house. I was dressed as a waitress from a favorite American hangout in Yerevan, Square One (more on Square One to come). Two funny things happened in the marshutney on our way home. I traveled with three other volunteers, two boys, me and another girl, and we were sharing the back seat. The people in the marshutney would not have it; they lectured us several times about how “shameful” it was to be sitting like this, and at one point one older couple in the marshutney nearly forced us (me and the other girl) to the front of the marshutney. We finally calmed them down, though I’m not really sure how! After we had been on the road a while, the man who had been the most adamant about us moving suddenly took out a very large knife and held it in front of my friend’s face. He said “che, chem oozoom”, or in English, “no, I don’t want it.” But those of us without the knife in our face realized that the man wanted us to read the knife for him as it had English writing on it. Weird.

Now, moving on from marshutney stories….for this post anyway…..

Oboe players unit! As I explained in my last email, I accidentally erased my iPod, certainly a tragic event for one that depends on her iPod for a small escape from the world. It truly is my constant companion, especially on marshutney rides. A few days after I erased my iPod I was hanging out with some of my American friends, explaining the situation. We were sitting in a small café in Yerevan, this particular café is a known American hangout as it is owned by an American and it serves really tasty things like French Toast with Maple Syrup. (Obviously one of my favorites.) One of my friends offered to give me some music from his iPod. I started scrolling through and I saw the name Eliot Smith, I said, “oh, you have Eliot Smith, awesome; he is one of my favorites!” He said, “Oh, if you like Eliot Smith you’d probably like Sufjan Stevens.” I let out a gasp and said “Sufjan Stevens?!!!” He said, “ya, that’s really his name, I think it’s Scandinavian.” I said, “no, that’s not it, I think he is from my town!” I mean, you don’t come across a name like Sufjan Stevens just everyday. My friend continued, “I think he is from Minnesota or Wisconsin.” (Those east coasters have no respect for the differences each of our beautiful Midwest-fly-over-states have to offer.) I held to my original idea that it was Sufjan that had gone to my school and had even studied oboe as a boy, of all things, with my mom. I made my friends walk with me to the internet so we could look it up, and sure enough, it is the Sufjan that I know. Well, know more by name and site, as he was five years older than me and changed schools around middle school. One of my other friends said something like “you are really excited about this, aren’t you?!” I said, “you don’t understand where I come from, there are like, 500 people in my town!” There are three things that make this story cool: 1. I found a new artist that I like, 2. I feel some hometown pride in his success, and the most important, 3. He uses a lot of oboe in his music. (I never claimed to be cool!)

Other American hangouts. There are a few other American hangouts in Yerevan where we are bound to run into Americans. One of my favorites is Yum-Yum Donuts. Donuts are not healthy, but damn are they tasty! This is the only place in the country where we can buy donuts. I went in one morning with some friends and sure enough, the five tables were all full of Americans. We sat in the corner staring at them, a bit snobbish as they were clearly tourists and well, we are not. Another non-Weight Watchers approved favorite hangout is a diner called Square One (the restaurant that inspired my Halloween costume, which was a t-shirt and baseball cap). They serve American style food including hamburgers and milk shakes. Probably the only place in the country where you can buy a milkshake, and man is it worth it!

Another connection to home. I was invited to a banquet with the Armenian Assembly of America as one of five representative volunteers from the Peace Corps. During the reception before the banquet I walked around and met many lovely people, Armenian-Americans, American ex-pats working here in Armenia, and Armenians. I met a woman named Susan Yacubian Klein, from the Armenian Tree Project, and she said, "Oh, I know you." I said "oh yes, we met on the plane coming over here." Her face didn't look familiar, but I remembered meeting a woman from the Armenian Tree Project on the trip here. Then she said, "no, that was my cousin Carolyn, but we have a friend in common, Diane Asadorian." Then it all came back to me, a friend of mine, a sort of co-worker from Indiana, is Armenian and had mentioned her family friend Susan way before I came to Armenia. Oh, I love making connections like that; it seems to solidify the six degrees of separation theory. During the banquet the Peace Corps was given a plaque of recognition and the five of us volunteers and the two Peace Corps staff members were called up for a picture. At the end many people came to our table and thanked us, all saying very nice things, but one man made the comment that has rung in my head: “As an American, I am proud of you, and as Armenian, I am grateful.”

Scary statistics. In conversations with my friends, Armenian and American, I’ve been trying to find out if some of the statistics I have heard are true. One statistic I’ve heard is that the average lifespan for men in Armenia is 50 years old. There is no real research to support this, but, regardless, this is a scary statistic. My Armenian friends agreed that men and women are dying younger and younger (unlike in America where our lifespan is increasing). It seems as though once a week or so an acquaintance of our family passes away, usually a man that is between forty and fifty. From my observation and the opinion of my friends, this seems to be the case for a few reasons: lots of drinking and smoking, high levels of stress, and little to no health care. I think in actuality it is closer to 65, but still a young age, and especially scary since it seems to be decreasing instead of increasing. Another daunting statistic I heard (again, probably not accurately supported by research) is that domestic violence rates are as high as 70 percent. Some people I’ve asked say that is a gross over-exaggeration, while others think it is possible. I assume many of the same reasons that contribute to poor health among men also contribute to the domestic violence rates. But again, these are just opinions and thoughts. (I have seen domestic violence since I’ve been here, very scary.)

Avian Flu. So who out there thinks I’m going to die from the Avian Flu? Come on; admit it, you thought about it! Don’t worry the Armenian government and the American government is monitoring it very closely. Though it is in Turkey, it is yet to make it to Armenia. And if it does, the only people that have been affected by the Avian Flu have been people working directly with birds. I think I’m fine, but if things change, I’ll keep you informed.

Goodbye fall, hello winter. Fall has been nice, though the colors weren’t quite as brilliant as those in northern Michigan where I grew up, it was pretty nonetheless. The air is slowly turning colder and colder, and last weekend it snowed for the first time. Gas is just making its way into the cities and towns around Armenia. Our apartment building was hooked up to gas in the last year. Gas, as you probably know, is much more efficient and cheaper than electricity, and without any sort of central heating system, this is really important for keeping houses warm in the winter. My host family just bought a gas stove for our house and it’s amazing how much it helps. Since the fall of communism there has been no good heating system, many families relied on small electric heaters that hardly heated one room and were very expensive. Many families cut down trees, illegally -- this is a big part of the deforestation that has nearly turned Armenia into a desert. Its one thing to be cold outside, but when it is just as cold inside your home and your work as it is outside, it is pretty scary. Though many people have gas now, it is not anywhere close to being everywhere; I can already tell the buildings are going to be cold during the winter months. We’ll see how things go for me this winter.

Just for the record, I’m not scared. Love, Jenny

We are lost! One of my favorite questions to ask people in Armenia is "where are we?". The answers are always varied, but centered around the same idea -- we are lost -- saying things like: Armenia is half Eastern and half Western, part European part Asian, not quite the Middle East but not quite Europe. This is fascinating to me as I watch the culture from a kind of insider, kind of outsider. (Maybe I'm lost too! We'll get to that story in a minute!) Anyway, as I walk the streets of Yerevan there is no doubt that this culture is affected by European life and style, but the attitudes and the mind-set of the people here is far more Asian, especially in the villages. It is a traditional culture, with traditional gender roles and set values. There is also the geographic placement of Armenia to consider, so far south of Europe, and truly right in the middle of the Middle East, but with Christian values. I love how this little country seems to be the gateway from one world to the next.

I got lost! Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later, and I guess it happened sooner. I caught a marshutney into Yerevan from Hrazdan one afternoon, then I caught one of the inter-city marshutneys down to the Peace Corps office. I’ve done this a ton of times, its very easy, especially now that I’m starting to learn my way around the city. I did some work for a couple hours, then I headed out to an organization called the American Councils -- they coordinate exchange programs for high school, college, and grad school students as well as for teachers and professors around the former Soviet Union. This particular afternoon I had agreed to give a lecture on resume writing for some of their alumni. I had given a talk on Old Dominion and Indiana University the week before and it was well attended, almost twenty people there, so I figured this would be as productive. I headed out from the Peace Corps office and started walking down the street. There are a couple different marshutneys that will take me close to the American Councils, so I was looking for those numbers to pass. They didn’t come, and they didn’t come and I started to be worried about being late, so I made a deal with myself that I would take a taxi if one came by, but all that came by were full!

Finally, after at least a half an hour of walking the number 45 bus came by, so I hopped on. I usually take the number 45 marshutney from my bus stop into town, so I was familiar with its route, and knew it would get me close to the American Councils office. So once on the bus, I was relieved to finally be sitting, but then the bus took an unknown turn. I thought that maybe it was going another way, since I knew it had to climb a pretty steep hill. But soon I started to realize that the bus was not going where I wanted to go! I climbed up to the front and asked the driver about my situation. He couldn’t help me, and for that matter, he couldn’t multi-task! I was asking him questions, and while trying to converse with me he forgot to drive the bus, nearly bringing it to a complete stop. Anyway, some people on the bus heard my dilemma and said I could call from their house.

I know what you are thinking: you went into a stranger’s house?! But I’ve learned to trust my intuition and I knew I’d be safe, besides, it was a boy and a girl and it was in a busy neighborhood. The boy and girl ended up being brother and sister, and their mom and dad were home too, none of which spoke a word of English. They welcomed me into their house, and helped me get things straight. By this time I was over a half hour late for my presentation. I called the American Councils and explained that I was lost and that I was ok. Then they called one of their friends that drives a taxi. Once everything was straightened out, they served me coffee, chocolate and fruit. Can you EVER imagine this kindness in America? Then the boy, I say boy, but truly he is 20, anyway, the boy rode with me to meet my friends at the American Councils and didn’t charge me for the taxi. I am still glowing from the pure kindness and generosity of that family, and the fact that this hospitability is the norm here in Armenia.

I got lost, again! Twice a year the Peace Corps volunteers get together for a north vs. south American football game. This tradition was started last spring, and thus this was the second of the tradition that will hopefully continue for years to come. I was going to stay with my friend Kim on Friday night, and then take a taxi with some others up to Ijevan where the game was held. Ijevan is 140 kilometers north of Yerevan, about two hours by marshutney. But on Friday, I couldn't find Kim, so I decided to take a marshutney down to Yerevan on Saturday morning, meet up with some other volunteers and travel with them up to Ijevan. I got on the marshutney around 9:00, but it took almost 40 minutes to fill up, by the time I got to Yerevan, my friends had already left for Ijevan. No problem, I had directions. I sat in the Peace Corps office for a bit checking my email, and then I headed out to the bus station where the Ijevan marshutneys leave from. Once there, I sat on that marshutney for over one and a half hours waiting for it to fill. Once finally full, we left and it took the normal two hours to get to Ijevan. The scenery was beautiful, green trees and mountains everywhere. I was supposed to be in Ijevan at 2:00 ready to play, the game started at 3:00.

I got to Ijevan at 3:45. I followed the directions to Nick's house, the Peace Corps volunteer hosting the party, but I couldn't find his place. So I started asking around, knowing that 20-30 Americans couldn't possibly hide from the gossiping townspeople. First I met this very nice lady, a physics teacher at the local university. She walked me around the city for a while, and when we couldn't find them, she offered to let me stay at her house, or at least come in for coffee and some food. I refused her gracious offer as I was anxious to find my friends. I walked back to Nick's neighborhood and asked a shop owner. He hadn't seen the Americans but he did point me in the direction of the soccer field. Of course, it was on the complete other side of town, down a hill, across the main street and a river, and back up another hill. Once on the other side of town, I was wondering around, asking people if they had seen a large pack of Americans. No one had seen the Americans, but finally one man introduced me to a man that could speak English. I explained the situation, and he offered to drive me around to find my friends. I got in the car with his wife and kids and they drove me all over the town until we finally tracked down the game, which, by the way, was in the complete opposite direction. By the time I found my friends it was 6:15 and the game was in sudden death. I was incredibly grateful for this man's kindness and how lucky I was to meet someone with such fluent English. He was a minister turned engineer turned special forces military officer, and thanks to several months of military training in the US, his English was flawless. Oh, and without my help, the north won, continuing an undefeated record.

Annie lost the first round. Speaking of American Councils (where I was headed when I got lost), one of their programs called the FLEX Program -- Future Leaders Exchange Program -- sends fifty 15, 16 and 17 year olds from Armenia to America each year, all expenses paid. My host sister Sona participated in this program in 2003-2004 and was placed in Missouri. One of my friends here in Hrazdan, Annie, applied for the program this year. There are three rounds in the application process. The first round is a fifteen-minute multiple-choice test, half is a fill-in-the-blank type and matching and half is reading and answering questions. The second round is a three-hour essay test and the third round an interview process. Unfortunately, Annie was out after the first round, but luckily, she is only fourteen and will have a chance to apply again next year.

Not lost, home. I have told you about my sitemate, or in other words, the other Peace Corps volunteer in my town, Ed Cook. There is another American in this town as well, his name is Ray Reeder. He came here with the Peace Corps twelve years ago and hasn't left! He met a Russian woman while working in Hrazdan, fell and in love, got married and has stayed here ever since. He is in his mid-sixties like Ed. He has worked for various American and international NGOs since finishing up his Peace Corps service. For six years he was Executive Director of American Councils, he is well respected in Yerevan and in Hrazdan despite his ability to speak Armenian or Russian and has been a great asset to me already. Oh, and just for the record, his wife doesn't speak English -- I suppose they speak the international language of love!

Someone lost their manners! Remember the boys that used to stare at me in Darpas? That was just conditioning me for my two years here. I get stared at constantly, and its not casual, its very blatant! In the internet hole-in-the-wall, I mean café, people stand right next to my computer and stare at me. On the marshutneys, men sit in the front seat and turn around and watch me, and sometimes the driver watches me in the rear-view mirror. The staring is annoying, but I think it is something I’m going to have to get used to, but the other harassment, that is something that I will never get used to. I had my first experience with this the other day. I was taking public transportation from Yerevan to Hrazdan, as if there is any other transportation. Anyway, I usually try to situate myself in a safe place, which usually means sitting with women. This particular evening there were no options, and I was stuck sitting next to a man that was staring at me before I even got into the marshutney. I sat down and sat very motionless, looking out the window the whole time. I could sense him staring at me, and trying to sit closer, which I might point out, would mean he was sitting on my lap since the marshutneys are usually so packed anyway. Anyway, at one point the tried to put his arm around me, but I glared at him, and he moved. I thought that had sealed the deal, but a few minutes later he touched my leg. I looked over at him, mostly in shock and yelled “you may not!” in Armenian of course, this is a common phrase used to scold. He backed off. The key is public embarrassment, and raising enough attention to get the Dadeeks (grandmas) to help if needed. He continued to stare and ask me to go home with him, I continued to ignore him. Not that this was a good experience, but I know its pretty common for the Peace Corps girls to get harassed like this, so I’m glad the first time has happened so now I’m prepared for any future occurrences.

Lost my breath. Mt. Ararat is truly one of the most magnificent sites I have ever seen. I’m serious when I say it takes my breath away, I’m not just saying that so that everything fits into my neat little theme. I can’t tell you specifically what it is, perhaps it’s the sudden steepness, or the way that the clouds cover most of the base so that all that can be seen is the glorious peak. Perhaps it’s the rich history or the way it towers over Yerevan, though now it is located in Turkey. On clear days I can see it from my exit on the highway, and I sit on the marshutney in awe of its magnificence, staring at it all 40 kilometers from Hrazdan to Yerevan. Whatever it is, it is worth a trip to Yerevan to see its indescribable beauty!

Lost in the shuffle. One of my NGOs, Burning Star (the youth development organization), is working with a doctor in Yerevan to conduct some research on ADHD. As it is now, there is no research or education around ADHD, none at all. Kids are lost in the shuffle and teachers are left labeling these kids as bad or unruly. In fact, as I learn more, I understand that psychosomatic drugs are not allowed in this country, so this research is truly just to identify these children, provide their parents and teachers with some coping techniques, and help them understand this condition. Treatment by medication will not be an option.

Zaven lost the volume button! Zaven, my host brother, plays his music at a very high volume! He is not alone, I would say its more common to play music or TV at a ridiculously high volume than not. Its an interesting mix of music, an eclectic mix from all around the world, including a lot of American rap, Russian techno, Latin whatever (Shakira is HUGE here!) and of course, Armenian pop and folk music. Good combination, huh? Sometimes they remake American rap songs into Russian, interesting. I like that there are so many different types of music, I just don't like it being played at such a high volume!

I lost all my music! Speaking of music, I erased my iPod completely. No, I didn't do it on purpose, it was a complete accident. I got a CD from one of my friends (thanks Pegs!) and I tried to load it onto my iPod, but as the true moron that I am, I loaded on that CD and erased everything else. I was not a happy girl after that mistake! Ugh! I can get a lot of music from my friends, probably most of what I had, but to think of all the hours it took me to load all those CDs. Arg!

Lost your mind! My host mom, Nelly, really wants to learn English. She speaks well and is getting better everyday that I'm here. (Let's not talk about how my Armenian is progressing!) Actually, we usually speak in both languages, sometimes I say something in Armenian and then in English, or she'll talk to me in English and I'll reply in Armenian. She spoke a good amount of English before I came, and works to learn new words everyday. (I wish I was that motivated!) Anyway, Sona speaks perfect English, of course, and Zaven the twelve year old is busy being a twelve year old, but he knows some English from school. But the dad, Garik, can't speak any English, well, he can speak one phrase. He asked Sona how to say "your head is empty!" in English and that is the only thing he can say, which he says often when Nelly and I sit and talk back and forth in English and he is frustrated because he can't understand.

The water is lost! I'm getting used to not having water 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. In fact, we usually have water from 10:00am to about 7:00pm which seems to be about average. Some people only have water for an hour or two a day while others have it pretty much all the time. I'm not sure why we have these outages. To prepare, we fill the tub and large buckets full of water. Last week the water was out for several days, I don't really understand why the water doesn't run all the time, and I really don't understand why it is shut off for days at a time! I especially love the days when the water, the gas and the electricity go off at the same time, now mind you, this is pretty rare, but it does happen. Makes life interesting!

I lost the privilege to shower. We had a conference last week and we stayed in a hotel, it was the first time I had showered in over a month and a half. Do you know how good it feels to have continuous warm water running over your body, pounding off the dirt and grease that accumulates? Of course you do, you get that whenever you want! My house doesn’t have a shower, as I noted before. Well, technically I think they do have a shower. There is a bathtub, but it is always full of water for outages and there is a shower head that could technically be connected to the wall to create a shower, but hot water doesn’t come out anyway, so there truly isn’t any point. So I am left to bucket bathing, as I noted previously. To bucket bathe I heat a bucket of water using this coil thing that is placed in the bucket and then plugged into an electrical outlet. Sound scary? It is! If you touch the water while the coil is plugged in, you’ll get electrocuted. (Duh!) Anyway, after my water is heated, I take a smaller bucket and dip it into the big bucket and pour it over my head -- shampoo, pour water over my head, condition, pour water over my head, soap up, pour water over my head -- you get the idea. This is just done in the middle of the bathroom, because the tub is full of water. It’s not so bad, I kind of like it for some reason, but it is hard to stay warm -- it will be interesting in the winter!

We lost four more volunteers. Since I wrote last, we have lost four more volunteers. When I say "we" I mean all the volunteers in Armenia, the few A-11s that are still here, A-12s and the A-13s, not just my group as I referred to during training. At the time of our Swearing-In there was a total of 90 volunteers in country. (That is a lot for this little country!) Since that time, four volunteers have gone back to the United States for various reasons. One volunteer was suggested to leave as it seemed he wasn't happy here and was creating a lot of trouble for the staff and the community where he lived and one volunteer decided this just wasn't for her; both were from my group. A married couple was sent home for medical reasons, it seems the male was having a lot of trouble with his shoulder and the doctors here couldn't provide the ongoing care he needed, so they were Medically Separated, or rather, asked to leave for medical reasons. We are now down to 86 volunteers in country.

Now I'm going to get lost! :)

xoxo

jenny

Hello Everyone!

My new home. Life in Hrazdan is good, and I am very pleased with my family and our home. We live in a style-less Soviet building just as everyone else does in Hrazdan. The apartment is small, but nice and well kept. There are wood floors throughout, an enclosed balcony, kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, a toilet room and a bathroom. (No shower, but I’m getting used to bucket bathes.) My room is small but adequate -- a large room it too hard to heat in the winter. There are two single beds in my room, a small cupboard for my clothes, and two shelves for books. One wall is covered with a large carpet (for insulation I assume), one is lined with windows, one is adorned with soccer posters left over from Zaven whose room I have taken over (not that I mind staring at Beckham as I drift off), and the other wall has my posters -- maps of Armenia and the world.

Since I have arrived here, my family has made three large investments. They bought a new TV, a rather large TV, a western style washing machine and a new sink for the kitchen. I could take or leave the TV -- there are only six channels, and most programs are in Russian -- and the sink is nice. But the thing that has made my life 500 times better is the washing machine. It is a small washing machine, but it is the most beautiful machine I have ever seen! My host mom thanked me for bringing them good luck, or rather, encouraging them to make these purchases. They have lived here for 15 years and haven’t bought anything. The good luck that I brought comes in the form of small bills paid monthly -- my rent for the next six months is almost the equivalent of the annual income for most families.

Home Remedy. I was pretty sick when I moved in about a month ago, but I’m feeling better now. One night I was sitting with my family and they insisted that I take my temperature. It was 40 degrees Celsius. I thought “ok, my temperature is 40 degrees Celsius” -- well, my host mom started freaking out and made me call my doctor. So I did the math and figured out that is 104 degrees Fahrenheit. Oops! So my doctor told me what to take from my medicine kit, and she told my host mom not to give me any of her medicine that I should only take what the Peace Corps has given me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hold her off from the home remedy, which was some sort of strong, thick, nasty jam. I don’t think it did anything for my cough, but I figured it couldn’t hurt – well, I think it gave me diarrhea, but what else is new. So what’s the count? Bronchitis (2), Foot Infection (1), Cut Hand (1), Cut Knee (1), Giardia (1). Not bad for three months!

Large. One night I was walking around town with my family. We met this lady on the street and talked with her back and forth, she is a teacher at one of the local schools. She was very nice, complimentary of my language skills and how beautiful I am. (Of course!) Later, Sona, my host sister that spent a year in the US, said that the lady said I was “large.” Back off lady! And, for the record, I have lost weight -- almost 8 pounds -- since I got to my site, thank God. I’m still eating plenty of potatoes, bread and pasta in mass quantities, don’t get me wrong, but I think I have explained a little better to this family my eating habits so they aren’t force feeding me quite as bad as the last family. Although, they still are “encouraging“ me to eat more than I wish!

Ed. I explained in a previous email that many of us have a sitemate, or another Peace Corps volunteer living and working in the same town. Some volunteers live in more remote locations, and don’t have a sitemate, but luckily for me, I have a sitemate and am not far from other volunteers in other towns. My sitemate is Ed Cook. He is an experienced man…um, he is mature….ok, he is old -- 63 to be exact. He came here in 2002, but fell at Christmas time and broke his hip. He came back the summer of 2003 and served his two years. He should have left this summer, but he decided to extend for one more year. He is an English teacher here in Hrazdan -- he works at the local Institute and he also teaches at Burning Star, one of the NGOs that I’m working with. He can’t speak a word of Armenian, but he gets by. He has made a lot of friends here and he is undoubtedly liked and respected in the community. Ed came to the Peace Corps after retiring from a career in the military. He has never been married and doesn’t have any kids.

I love the diversity of the Peace Corps. Ethnically, our group isn’t too diverse -- we have two Asian-Americans and we had one Hispanic boy and one girl that was half African American, but they decided to go back to the United States. But, the variety of people in our group is amazing: there is age diversity in our group of 42 volunteers -- there are fourteen people over the age of 45, there are six married couples of varied ages, my closest friend Steve (from my training village) was a Federal Judge (not retired, just taking a break), we have two men that were career military, one woman has a PhD in Education, one man is a Physical Therapist, one young guy has come here in between college and seminary so that he can “do something in the secular world for a while”, and we come from all around the United States, including Alaska!

The old 9-5. Work isn‘t so much a 9-5 routine, in fact, I‘d be happy with a routine at all. I really don’t “go into the office” or keep a regular schedule. I have, at least, met with all of my NGOs -- Burning Star NGO (a youth development organization), the Human Rights Library (self explanatory), Women with Higher Education (working to improve women’s rights) and Doctors of Hrazdan (working to educate people about their health, and specifically AIDS education). Isn’t this a great collection of organizations for me? I couldn’t have asked for a better fit! I had four very productive meetings and have some ideas what I can do with these organizations.

*Burning Star is young, they opened their doors in May. They were started by five Hrazdan 20-somethings that wanted to make life better for the youth in the town. Currently they focus on English and computer classes, trips around the country, and a central location for resources on things like education and studying abroad. I want to help them with their organizational development, strategic planning and fundraising. They are a really energetic group of people and I already know they are not only going to be great to work with, they are going to be great friends too!

*The Human Rights Library is a branch of a bigger organization located in Vanadzor where I spent the summer in training, and, as it turns out, that is where Steve (the Federal Judge) is working. I like the idea of the library, focusing on educating people about there rights, as many didn’t know what “freedom” was after the fall of the Soviet Union. However, I am having a struggle with the local branch. The director wants me to teach English classes, and for my teaching he can charge a fee, thus generating some income for the library. I completely disagree with this, ethically as a volunteer I don’t think he should charge for my time, but also, in terms of fairness, I don’t agree that he should charge for my time while I teach at the other NGOs for free. He has brought this up about 10 times, as if I’m going to change my mind (to my family: I do have a bit of Donna in me you know!). Because of this I said I wouldn’t even consider teaching any English classes until January, and that goes for all the NGOs. Anyway, I hope to help him find a way to be sustainable, and I’d also like to see him make a better relationship with the headquarters, which he doesn’t communicate with currently.

*The Women with Higher Education NGO is an affiliate of an international organization, I think its American. They want to help women to be in authoritative positions, such as mayor or members of parliament. Great goals, of which I certainly support, but I think that is shooting a little too high a little too quickly. The woman that I met with, president of the local affiliate, said that woman here face two challenges, first in the home, and then in society. I need to understand the international organization’s mission a little better, but I think a better idea might be to do some leadership classes for women and girls.

*The Doctors of Hrazdan are awesome! The aren’t a registered NGO, when I asked them about this, they said “people register just to get money, we don’t need money, we need ideas.” (What a dichotomy from the Human Rights Library -- I swear all he wants is money!) Anyway, for them, I am hoping to help them figure out how to educate people about health, including AIDS prevention. AIDS isn’t currently a big problem here, but it is on the horizon. Last year Russia had the fastest growing AIDS population in the world. As I’ve noted previously, a large majority of the men in this country are in Russia working. While in Russia, they have affairs with other women or prostitutes (“men can’t control themselves, you know!” is what most people here say), and then bring AIDS back into Armenia. I don’t mean to sound feminist here, but really, women in this culture do not have premarital sex, or external marital affairs, and certainly they do not use intravenous needles! I’ve heard that premarital sex is happening more and more, even for the young women, all the more reason to start a health education campaign!

These are four fantastic organizations and I’m really excited to be working with all of them. Now I just have to figure out “how” to work here. I have talked to some people in the mayor’s office about getting an office, that way I’ll at least have a central place to sit and work. That reminds me of a funny story, while I was meeting with this man in the mayor’s office, the mayor’s right hand man if you will, a woman walked in to get something signed and the man said “see what beautiful women we have working here!” Wow! Oh, and at all of the meetings with my NGOs, the meetings were usually centered around important questions to me, such as: do you have children, are you married, do you have a mother and a father, do you miss America, do you want to marry an Armenian boy, do you like America or Armenia better? All extremely important questions for a business meeting.

J-Lo. A name like Jennifer is ridiculously popular in the United States. I think that it was the most popular name for girls during the 80s, but I’m sure many of you know a Jennifer that was born in the 70s or 90s. I would bet there isn’t a person in the United States that doesn’t know a Jennifer, or couldn’t say they have a Jennifer as a friend. Of course you all know, you may know a Jen or a Jenny that is truly a Jennifer, but nonetheless, you are more than familiar with this over-used, ordinary, dull name: Jennifer. (Thanks mom and dad for setting me up for such a hum-drum life! Ha!) Anyway, there is a point here. Every time I introduce myself to someone new it goes like this: “Eem anoona Jennifer ay,” that’s Armenian for “my name is Jennifer”. The response is inevitably “Jennifer? Jennifer Lopez!” *laugh, laugh, laugh* Ya, real fricken hilarious, and damn original too! I like Jennifer Lopez, of course I do, and if they confused me for her, than I would be on cloud nine, but that’s not the case, unfortunately; they are just clutching to any name recognition that comes to mind. Too bad my name wasn’t Martin so they could shout out “Martin? Martin Luther King!” every time I introduce myself.

We Do Not Want To Give Birth To Mutants. Many volunteers work on secondary projects, clubs, and other things to stay busy, especially in the summer months when those working in schools don’t have anything to do. Our environmental volunteers work together with an Armenian NGO to hold “eco-camps” around the country. The basic idea is to teach youth about the environment. I wasn’t part of this year’s eco-camp, and I probably won’t be in the future. Not that this is only for environmental volunteers, but I have other interests. Anyway, the NGO that the volunteers worked with this year was a bit difficult, yelling at our volunteers and just making things unpleasant. On the last day of the camp, one of the volunteers asked for some literature from the organization. I’m not sure why he wanted this information, but he did for whatever reason. The one page handout listed, in English, the mission, history, goals and mottos for the organization. It was averagely translated into English, not perfect, but we could understand what it said. Anyway, what caught the attention of the volunteers, and what has since made this handout fly around the Peace Corps Armenia circuit, was the following motto: We Do Not Want To Give Birth To Mutants. Yes, its true, a legitimate NGO has that as their organizational motto. Odd? Yes. But come on, can you not stand behind the idea that giving birth to mutants would indeed be terrible? They truly are doing us a service!

Public Transportation. As you may or may not know, I am not allowed to drive while I am a Peace Corps volunteer. This is fine by me -- driving here would be scary! I am dependent upon public transportation to get me from one place to another. Most public transportation is done via marshutney, while some trips use busses. It is a rare occasion that I get to travel by bus, even short trips from one part of town to the other are done by marshutney. For those that don’t know what a marshutney is, it is a van or small bus used to transport people. There is not one particular type of van or bus that is used -- they come in all shapes and sizes. Often they are falling apart and do not resemble the most cleanly conditions on the insides. For long trips, the marshutney will wait until it is full, one person per seat, and then it will go -- although this includes people sitting on folding chairs in the isles. (I’ve had to sit there, it sucks!) Now, for the marshutneys that travel around town, there is no limit to how many people can fit -- so many people inside these things I can’t believe they can still run! Its really great when it’s a smaller marshutney, so when you end up having to stand, you can’t really stand because its so small inside, so you are left kind of crouching. (Yes, I’ve done this a lot, and it sucks too!) My legs are going to be so strong!

One of my favorite parts of riding the marshutneys is boarding. There is no “system” for these marshutneys -- there are no tickets, there is no line, there is rarely a schedule. Usually when I go to my bus stop, there is a marshutney waiting. I sit down and wait 5-30 minutes for it to fill up, and then we go. Sometimes though, there isn’t a marshutney waiting -- when the marshutney pulls up, there is a mad rush to get on. The crowd hardly lets the passengers out while pushing to get in and get a seat and there I am with the masses, pushing old ladies out of the way and stepping on children to get my place on the marshutney. Hey, its a rough world out there people!

I’m leaving on a jet plane. Ok, not really, but its playing on my computer right now and I want to talk about the traveling I’ve done. Maybe it should be more like “I’m leaving on a marshutney” -- it has a nice ring. A couple weeks ago I took a trip to Vayk, a small town south of Yerevan for a going away party for one of our language teachers. The party was hosted by an A-12 volunteer, James, who is from Grand Rapids, Michigan. (Remember, the A-12s have been here a year and now they have their own places! Only 5 more months until I can have my own place!) Vayk, though only 3 hours in marshutney from Hrazdan, is more of a dessert, reminding me a bit of Nevada.

Two weekends ago I went to Gyumri, the second or third biggest city in Armenia to a party at Kate‘s apartment, Kate is an A-12 volunteer from Rochester, Michigan. It was supposed to be a girls’ weekend, but there ended up being some guys there too. Gyumri was ruined during the 1988 earthquake, any building over 3 stories (which was probably 90% of the town) came down in the earthquake, since then the town has been completely rebuilt. It is quite a lovely town, although it is located in the northwest corner of the country, which is the coldest region. (Looks like Wyoming!) I traveled down to Yerevan to catch a marshutney to Gyumri on Friday afternoon, as all marshutneys run through Yerevan. While there I ran into a bunch of other volunteers headed to the party. We ended up renting our own marshutney and going up together, sixteen of us total. The apartment was packed, bodies in sleeping bags were everywhere, in the kitchen, on the balcony, but hey, we’re all friends or at least we are now! Oh, and one more thing of note from Gyumri, there are bumper cars in Gyumri, a little area with bumper cars and a few other scary carnival rides. Of course, the volunteers seized the cars filling up every car with Americans. Once we got started, we were ramming into each other, and having a good time. The lady running the ride turned it off three times and yelled at us for “bumping” into each other, and continued to yell at us once we were exiting the ride. Perhaps its “non-bumper cars” in Armenia?

Last weekend I went south again to a town called Yeghegnadzor for a birthday party. This party was hosted by Cat, an A-12 volunteer who is from, yes, you guessed it, Michigan; Jackson, Michigan. The party was for an A-13 volunteer, Andrew, who turned 26. A couple weeks ago we were discussing the number of people from Michigan serving in Armenia, which is around 10 out of 88 volunteers in the country. One of the volunteers who is from Minnesota said “man, I didn’t know coming to Armenia was going to be such a Michigan love-fest.”

I should explain a bit about these parties, they are what I consider a combination of a 3rd grade slumber party, college fraternity party, and intellectuals dinner club. Volunteers from all over the country show up, and the one hosting the party never really knows how many people will come. Depending where the party is, we eat at the host’s house, or we go out. Cooking at home can be fun, as we can enjoy some American meals (or at least meals we eat in America!) -- the most popular eating-in meal is burritos! These parties aren’t just for the twenty-somethings, in fact, our oldest volunteer came last weekend, she is 70, and my best friend Steve (he is 57) hasn‘t missed a party yet. We drink wine, beer, and vodka (ok, some drink soda, juice and water), we talk about everything from our health to politics to our lives at in the states to our concerns of the week, and we sleep on any slice of floor space available in sleeping bags spread throughout the house. These parties have truly added to my experience here in Armenia!

I’m going to stop now, but I want to elicit some information from whoever is out there reading. I hate that this communication is so one-directional. If you are reading this, and you have some time, please drop me a note and let me know how you are doing!

Love, Jenny

Well, I have some sad news. Sorry for the lame “Survivor” theme for this email, but that’s the best I can do. Last Saturday we had a ceremony for our host families in Vanadzor, as I explained in the last email, which included several skits, songs and our speeches. The speeches were supposed to be ten minutes total, but all three of us took longer than our 3 minutes, so they decided that they had to cut one of us for the sake of the non-Armenian speakers at our Swearing-In ceremony (it really needed to be 10 minutes or less). Things went great for all of us, we all worked really hard and got the flow and pronunciations, and as you can imagine, none of us wanted anyone to be cut. But the woman in charge of the ceremony insisted, and as a result, I got cut. I’m not exactly sure why they cut me and at the same time, I’m not sure why it was a big deal if we took 15-20 minutes instead of 10. Honestly, I think Elvira and Warren are more fluent at the language than I am, but that’s not exactly why we were picked to give the speech in the first place – yes, were picked because we are good at the language and we are good speakers -- but there are LOTS of people in our group that are good presenters and LOTS that are good at the language, and even several that are better than the three of us. Anyway, Svetlana assured me that my speech was good and could be understood, so I don’t think I got cut because I was so terrible that they were embarrassed to have me represent the group (but maybe that is the case, who knows?!). The other volunteers were pretty pissed that they did this to me, first of all, they wanted the three of us, that’s who they voted for, and second, as you’ve read, I had put in a lot of work.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t upset, but hey, what’s done is done, and truly, Warren and Elvira did a great job, they were very good at delivering their speeches and they were great people to represent us. Besides, Sveta said from the beginning that the most important thing was being at a level to give the speech, whether I was picked or not. Oh, and it is worth mentioning how proud my villagemates and our host families were that someone from their village was giving the speech for the host family ceremony. One volunteer said that her host mom was so proud while I was on stage; it was as though I was her own daughter! The families couldn’t stop buzzing about my speech; they all were very amused that I was scared of a few geese. So, ok, I did it: I wrote it, learned it, and read it in front of a couple hundred of my fellow volunteers and their host families -- so who cares if I didn’t get to read it in front of the TV cameras and the Ambassador!

On Sunday I drove my stuff to Hrazdan along with one other volunteer, Bill Tate, who will be living about 10 kilometers from me in another town, and then we returned to our respective villages that same day. It was a long day, we left Vanadzor at noon and we didn’t get home until almost nine that night. Bill is one of our older volunteers (I think he is in his mid-60s), although it was long, we had a very nice day together.

Monday we left our villages bright and early for Yerevan, where Swearing-In was held. Dadeek walked me to the bust stop, and many neighbors came out to say goodbye as we walked down the street. (I’m pretty sure I only knew a third of the people that were so anxious to say goodbye to me!) It was a sad goodbye, and all the moms waited at the bus stop and cried as we drove off.

Swearing-In was Monday afternoon and it went well, despite my general feeling of defeat. It was a pretty formal ceremony, held at the Marriot in Yerevan. (If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I was in America!) There were speeches by the Peace Corps country director, the Ambassador, and four representatives from the different Armenian ministries in which we will be working under. After the ceremony there was a nice reception, followed by a pizza party for the volunteers at the Peace Corps office. Then of course there was the optional post party held at the Opera Bar near the Opera House. (I love that the volunteers hang out at the Opera Bar!)

On Tuesday morning I moved to Hrazdan. The Peace Corps dropped me off at the marshutini stop, and luckily I got there just as they were about to go. Unluckily, I was the last person and had to sit on a make-shift seat with a little pillow on it. It was pretty hot and uncomfortable, but I can do anything for 40 minutes.

So now I’m here at my new home and things are going well. I wasn’t expected at work until Saturday afternoon, so I’ve just been getting acquainted with the area and my family. Nelly, my host mom, is very sweet and spends a lot of time talking with me. She knows a bit of English, so together, between my broken Armenian and her novice English; we are getting along just fine. (Of course when Sona is here, things are great, because as you may recall, she spent a year in the US.) Nelly insists on taking me around town so that people will see that I belong to her, and as a result, as she said “living here won’t be difficult for me”.

Of course there is a laundry list of difficulties (such as being dependent on a bucket bath since my family doesn’t have a shower), and once again I have to assert my independence. I’m so tired of being treated like a fourteen year old! I didn’t have a ten o’clock curfew even when I was fourteen! And yes, believe it or not, I would rather sit alone in my room reading than sit and watch TV with the family, IN RUSSIAN! Besides that, when I say I’m not hungry, I’m really not hungry, that isn’t the cue for three big scoops of the meal du jour!

I suppose the sick gods are determined to keep me sick, I think I’m catching a cold or something (probably bronchitis again or a sinus infection!), so all I want to do is sleep and lay peacefully in my bed, undisturbed, but Nelly insists that I should visit with her and that it’s not healthy to be alone when sick. She is certain that she can make me better with some of her drugs and practically pushed them down my throat. I may have angered her a little, but I had to stand firm, and I said “I have been living alone for 8 years, and caring for myself for 8 years. I know how to handle a cold. I have a lot of good drugs from the Peace Corps, and if it gets worse, then I will call my doctors. Besides that, it is a Peace Corps rule that I am not allowed to take drugs unless the Peace Corps doctors give them to me.” I’m sure whatever over the counter stuff she has couldn’t hurt me, and I’m sure she knows what she is doing, but why put myself in harms way if I can avoid it? These types of things are going to make the next six month home stay seem very long, even a home stay with a family as great as mine. I have explained over and over again that no, in fact, I prefer to be alone when I am not feeling well and the best thing for me is to sleep and drink water. I don’t care if she thinks I’m the weirdest person on earth!

That’s it for this post, lots of venting, sorry! Not sure when I’ll write again since my web guy is once again taking off. No, not band camp again, he is coming to my neck of the woods on tour with The American Russian Youth Orchestra. (Nate, is a 28 year old really considered “youth”?) Oh, and I am sending him a bunch of pictures, so hopefully he can post a few of them before he leaves the country. Check the website in a week.

Love your 14 year old friend,

Jenny

Ok, I know I said that I wasn’t going to write until the end of August, but I was lying. There is just way too much to tell. So, as always, read on if you are so inclined….

Meal Crasher. I’ve taken up the habit of crashing meals. Well, it’s not directly on purpose, but kind of. As I have explained previously, I live a ways outside the center of Darpas. Some afternoons after class, I (we) catch the bus into Vanadzor for the afternoon, to check email, make phone calls, go out to dinner, meet volunteers from other villages and so on. Anyway, it would be pretty difficult for me to get from our school, which is on one end of the village, to my house, which is on the other end of the village, eat lunch, and catch the bus. So, I just stay in the center of the village and eat with one of my classmates. Last week, I ate at Dagan’s once or twice, Steve’s once or twice and once and with Bob and Peggy. I, of course, try not to make this a habit, it is perhaps a bit intrusive on the other families, and I’m afraid I will hurt my family’s feelings! Anyway, it is worth mentioning how welcoming the other families are, without hesitation they welcome me to eat with their family. (I think secretly they are excited to have me around because I am a young girl, the only young female volunteer in our village.)

Darpas. Things are coming to an end in Darpas, and I’m really going to miss the routine I have created. The other day I was walking home from a party, and had so many fun interactions on the way home. First, some girls that always greet me as I pass, usually saying “hello” in English, and then “how are you?” in Armenia. Well, these young girls finally worked up enough nerve to ask me if I’m married and how old I am. Then, a little bit further down the road, a woman that is always sitting on the side of the road, and whom I always greet in the respectful manner, stopped me. We exchanged a few words, and then I carried on. She was, of course, very impressed by my superb language abilities. Finally, as I turned down the road to my house, some of my boys were sitting on the side of the road. They said “Hello Jennifer!”, it completely caught me off guard, and I smiled and said hello. Now, in the days since this experience, all the boys greet me with “Hello Jennifer!” and all the children have worked up the nerve to ask me questions. (In fact, the other day, some girls asked Dagan if they could come over to my house for coffee. He said that they would have to ask me about that one.) Oh, and one more funny story about Darpas. Some girls that we always pass on our way to school stopped Dagan in the road the other day. They were asking him questions about where he is going after he leaves Darpas. So he explained. Then they asked where his sister is going. He said “my sister?”, they said “yes, your sister, Jennifer.” Have I told you about Dagan’s appearance? Dagan has red hair and blue eyes!

Community Project. Speaking of Darpas, I should tell you about our community project. Among the numerous ridiculous assignments we have had over the last 10 weeks, we were instructed to conduct some sort of community project. This was to be something sustainable, something we could give the community and that they would hopefully continue in our absence. It’s a great idea in theory, but we have had so much work, it was really the last thing we wanted to do. Some of the other villages accomplished this task, quite impressively, one village made a phone book (they had phone books in the Soviet times, but haven’t since), one started English classes and found someone in the village to carry on the work, and we had Darpas Kids Day. Sustainable? No! Fun? Yes. We organized five games to play in the soccer field near the school: ring toss, bean bag toss, frisbee throw, three legged race and blind man’s bluff. We recruited the help of some local youth with good English skills and power in the community. We were expecting 30 kids, but much to our surprise, we picked a kid with a lot of power, and before we knew it, we had over 75 kids there. But, with some help of the local PE teacher, we were able to provide the kids with some fun activities.

Andy. While I’m on the subject of Darpas, it is worth noting that Andy has left the Peace Corps (he was the quite one from Darpas). We started with 8 of us in Darpas, and now we are down to 6. Overall 4 trainees have decided to go home, two of which were from Darpas. In other news, Jesse, the trainee that was kicked in the face during an intense game of soccer has rejoined our group. Although much skinnier (his jaw was wires shut and he had to live on Boost shakes), he is happy to be back and we are happy to have him back! Now our group is down to 44.

My Health. Ok, I’m going to give it to you straight: my health is not good, but please don’t be worried, it’s really not terrible, and in general, it is not affecting my day to day activity. Most of you know that I had bronchitis my first couple weeks here. After that I got an infection on my foot. I think it was a blister that got infected and made my whole foot swell. Weird one. A couple weeks later I tripped and cut my hand and my knee. It was just like the bad acting from a Red Cross movie – I was close to the school when I tripped, so I stood up and walked over to where my classmates were sitting, and then I burst into tears and said “I hurt my hand!”. They came to my rescue, scrubbing the gravel out of my cuts and calming me down. The cuts have healed with out a problem, but I did rip my only pair of jeans. Don’t worry, Dadeek is a seamstress, she has already patched the hole. And finally, the best for last, I have Giardia. It’s not terrible, just a mild case, but I am on antibiotics nonetheless. By the way, it hasn’t been the weight loss secret I was hoping for, it has just been shitty. (Sorry, I couldn’t resist!)

Minorities. Someone wrote me and asked “what’s wrong with being black in Armenia?” Perhaps I should elaborate on that for a moment. Armenia claims to be a homogeneous society, and in general, they have a similar appearance. But, they have been invaded and have had their boarders shifted so many times; they really are a mix of so many different ethnicities. I have seen Armenians that look Asian, some that look Russian, many that look Middle Eastern, and of course, the typical old Caucasian. That being said, someone that has black skin has a very different appearance than the Armenians, even though they are all quite different. So, being black in this country (and truly, being Asian too) affords you a lot of stares just because it’s the unknown. I think that in general, this is a very welcoming culture, but I would say the majority of people in this country have never seen a person with black skin. And probably, many have never seen someone that is not Armenian. There are a couple black volunteers in the group ahead of me, and while neither of them were really subject to serious harassment, both have been subject to an intense amounting of staring, picture taking, and hearing the “n” word. (It’s apparently not “bad” here, but to us, of course, it’s always bad.) Oh, and I guess it’s really hard for some people to get their hands around the idea of Asian-Americans. So some of the Asian volunteers have said that people assume they are from China or Japan, all Asians are married or brother/sister with the other Asians in the group, and many are called “Jackie Chan.” (Good thing these volunteers have a good sense of humor!)

LPI. Peace Corps all over the world uses this LPI, or Language Proficiency Interview to gauge our language ability. We are each interviewed by two people who ask us a host of questions, using different tenses and grammar structures to test our knowledge. These testers are amazing people; they have to put up with our terrible pronunciations and ridiculous patchwork of words. Dagan and I are working out a little comedy sketch featuring an example of a LPI translated into English. Here is a rough idea:

Tester: Hello Jenny dear.

Me: Hello. How are you?

Tester: I am good. Jenny, where will you live in Armenia?

Me: I…..ahhhhhh…..will work……ahhhhh…..businessman.

Tester: Ok. What will you do tomorrow?

Me: Yesterday, I…..ahhhhh….will going….ahhhh….in Vanadzor.

Tester: Jenny, what will you do in Armenia?

Me: I…ahhhh…..worked…ahhhh….and….studied.

Ok, ok, maybe it’s not so funny to you, but it’s just an illustration of the test --screwing up tenses, leaving out important sounds to make complete sentences, you get the idea. (Hey, I’m not perfect!) However, to us, this is hilarious. But maybe we are little bit delusional these days.

Presents! Heather and Aunt Laurie – I cannot thank you enough for all the kind gifts you sent my host family. I presented them their gifts last night, and there were so grateful! Haygush and Hamlet LOVED everything you sent them, and I think in just a few hours, they successful played with everything…more than once. Haygush is really quite an artist, and she took to the crayons (apparently you cannot get that many colors in Armenia) and coloring books right away (Hamlet has made some nice scribbles). Hamlet was, however, VERY excited about the matchbox cars! They really enjoyed the Magnadoodles too, and it’s sure a good thing there were two! I think the best part was when I gave Haygush the barrettes and hair ties. I believe I heard a “whoa”, well, in Armenian, of course. Oh, and I got to teach Hamlet how to do a puzzle, that was very rewarding! (Maybe having kids isn’t so bad after all!) And oh my gosh, Hechine and Dadeek loved the lotions and sprays, in fact, I gave them these things when Papeek was away working. So Dadeek opened Papeek’s present (cologne) -- Hechine liked it so much she said she was going to save it for her husband!

These things are so nice for them. Really, the kids don’t have many toys. Perhaps it’s by choice (the minimalist approach) or perhaps they can’t afford them, I think it’s the latter. Regardless, they were incredibly thankful for the gifts -- they told me to thank you very, very, very much. Later in the evening when some neighbors came over, Hechine got out all the gifts and put them on the table so that the neighbors could see. (Lots of “ooo’s” and “aahhhh’s” from the crowd were heard.) I think that is a testament to how much they enjoyed the gifts!

Oh, and if you are wondering if they gave me anything, well, yes, actually they did. They gave me the most hideous bra I’ve ever seen. Yes, they gave me a bra. (I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, or as the saying goes, “look a gift horse in the mouth”, but who gives someone that is basically a stranger a bra as a present?!) I’m not sure what exactly that says about me, but they gave me a bra. (Perhaps they have seen what I have via the clothes line and think its not going to get me an Armenian husband?!) Hey, it’s the thought that counts!

Speech. Well, the speech is coming along, but I have to admit, I’m fricken stressed out of my mind. There are many issues at hand. First of all, I had to write the speech in English, and get it to somewhat flow with two other speeches, and get them to fit into a ten minute period. Fine. Then, once the speech was translated (this actually was done for me, much to my surprise), I had to learn a host of new words. Ok, sure, writing a speech is ok, and learning some new words, ya, it happens daily. But the real kicker, the thing I didn’t anticipate, is how unbelievably hard it is to deliver a sentence with the correct intonation and then making a paragraph, and a story for that matter, flow in a way that its understandable and enjoyable for the listeners in a language that is very, very new to me. Now I’ve never been one to fear public speaking, and I hear there will be a host of media and over 300 people at this ceremony (more than I thought!), but holy cow-pie, the thought of giving three minutes of a coherent, flowing, listenable speech has left me sleepless at night! (Is listenable a word?!) For anyone that is interested, you can read my speech (in English) on my website in the “About Me” section. (Nate, can you forward it to Grandma so she can read it?)

One last note; I’ve taken the “memorizing a piece of music for my stupid jury” approach to learn this speech. And that is, for the non-band dorks out there, one word at a time, starting from the last word, and then reading through adding a word and repeating the same thing over and over again.

Moving and Swearing-In. So here are my plans for the next few days. Today, Saturday, we are hosting a good-bye ceremony for the host families. This will include a few Armenia songs, two skits, a poem and our speeches. Then, on Sunday, I will drive my stuff to Hrazdan along with another volunteer, Bill Tate, who will be living about 10 kilometers from me in another town, and then we will return to our respective villages that same day. Monday all the volunteers will meet in Vanadzor and load the bus for Yerevan. We will arrive in Yerevan, check into our crappy hotel, and then have about an hour to eat lunch and freshen up (that’s if we are on time, which is highly unlikely). Anyway, then we walk over to the Marriot, the nicest hotel in the city (they have AC there!) and rehears Swearing-In for two hours. Then we have the Swearing-In ceremony, which I have mentioned previously. After Swearing-In the current volunteers are having a party for us at the Peace Corps office. The next day, Tuesday, we will go to our sites first thing in the morning. When will we start work? A normal, hard-working American might say Wednesday morning, but no, this is the Peace Corps, and we were told that if we made it into our job by the first of September that would be pretty ambitious. (In other words, just slow down and drink some coffee.)

AIM. I usually get to the internet once or twice a week. Often when I go to the internet café, around 9:00am EST, I sign on to AIM. If you are interested in chatting to me directly, my screen name is JenZeis.

On that note, I’ll say goodbye. I’ll write after Swearing-In to tell you how the speech went. Think really good thoughts for me around 7:00am EST on Monday August 15th.

XOXO

Jenny

Ps. To my cousin Chris – Yes, I could kick a goose, I mean, I have really been doing a lot of self motivation in this area, and I think I have pumped myself up enough that I’m pretty sure I could do it if it came down to it….ok, well, I have at least decided that I could drop kick a chicken…..have I mentioned that the geese have gotten the chickens against me too.....and don’t even get me started on the roosters….is it strange that I’ve started to duck when birds fly over my head…..you know, what’s so wrong with running away anyway?!!!

Hello, hello!

A new toy. For some unknown reason to me, some neighbor gave Haygush a doll that sings "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star". Now, I was never much of a doll type little girl, but this thing is terrible! She sings, in a squeaky, high voice, "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" over and over again. Haygush and Hamlet love this stupid little doll, meanwhile, I'm about to ring the doll's little neck - or at least sabotage her batteries. The funniest thing is that Haygush sings along, well she attempts to sing along making sounds that she thinks resembles the English!

One of the neighbors. Our neighbors are so nice, and all shout joyfully when they see me walking by their house. One neighbor was over the other day, and she looked awful. It turns out she has a very serious tooth ache. This is incredibly unfortunate for many reasons. At best guess, I think she only has ten teeth left. When I asked if she would be seeing the doctor she explained that she couldn't because of the expense -- so much for socialized health care. (This country needs dental and vision care! In the villages, glasses and teeth are both quite scarce!)

Eat! There is a tendency in this culture to speak in the Imperative Mood (i.e. Eat! Sit! Speak!), it is not intended to be rude, it's just that there isn't a "please" attached to the commands. Anyway, my family's favorite is -- eat! -- and in fact, most families in Armenia LOVE to give this command. They don't really say anything to me about my preference not to eat meat, but they constantly comment on the amount I eat. The other day Dadeek and I were eating and I swear we ate exactly the same amount, and then she looked at me and said "Eat! You eat a little, I eat a lot!" (This gets REALLY old, I hear it at least once a meal!) Meanwhile, I feel like I've gained 50 pounds since I've been here. Today we were eating dinner, and Dadeek took a tomato and placed it on my plate (yes, a whole tomato), then said "eat!". Having food placed on one's plate is a common occurrence and thus common gripe among Peace Corps volunteers; thankfully it rarely happens to me! (Weight Watchers would not approve!)

On another note, eggplant is in season! I LOVE it. I really do like the food I am served, but eating potatoes, pasta and white bread in large quantities at every meal is really taking its toll. We have also been eating spinach a lot lately, although I'm told from other volunteers that it's not exactly spinach, but similar. Anyway, my family serves it often as the main dish, and we eat it with pieces of garlic from the garden. It's delicious! Have I mentioned the apricots? Armenia is famous for their apricots, and after consuming approximately several hundred this summer, I agree that they are quite tasty. Much better than any apricot I have ever had in the states. Two other traditional foods that I am quite fond of are Dolma and Horovatz. Dolma is a mix of rice and meat rapped in grape leaves, but the vegetarian option is just rice rapped in grape leaves. (Uncle Jimmy, for the record, this is the first time I have had rice since I've been here!) It is delicious! (I'm not sure what spices they use, but I have two years to learn!) The word "horovatz" translates to "barbeque". Meat and vegetables are places onto long skewers and set down into the fire. It is quite delicious as well!

Language. Language is coming along much, much better than I ever expected! The first part of training my teacher was Svetlana, you've heard me speak of her often, and my classmates were Dagan and Andy, we are the "young" Peace Corps Trainees in Darpas. The "older" half of Darpas was taught by Lala. Now we have switched teachers and done a little bit of rearranging of our groups. Dagan and I have surpassed our villagemates, and thus have been given our own class with Lala. Its great, Dagan and I are good friends, we work well together and now we are moving much faster through the lessons. The middle group, taught by Svetlana, is compromised of Steve (the judge), Bob and Peggy (the married couple). Finally, the lowest level group will have Lala and Svetlana on a rotating basis and will be made up of Peggy (the free spirit) and Andy (the quiet one).

In other language related news, I have something pretty exciting to share. I have been selected to give a speech (in Armenian) at our Swearing-In ceremony! First, the language teachers recommended their top students. Then the other training staff narrowed the list down by choosing the trainees that are outgoing and that have good presentation skills. Five trainees were nominated, two girls and three boys. Finally, the other volunteers were asked to vote on who they would like to give the speech. The list was supposed to be narrowed to just two people, but there was a three way tie, so we agreed that three of us could do the speech together. I am amazed that the level of my language ability is one of the best in my group; I am delighted that the training staff sees me as a good presenter and an outgoing person, and of course, I am pleased that my fellow volunteers have picked me to represent them. (It's like being Homecoming Queen all over again!) :) So what does this mean? Well, the three of us (the other two are Elvira and Warren, both are TEFL volunteers, and both are 25 years old as well) will prepare a short speech together, probably only 10 minutes in length. We will deliver our speech in front of 200 or so Peace Corps volunteers, Peace Corps Armenia staff members, members of the Armenian Ministries in which we will be working under (i.e. the TEFL volunteers are under the Ministry of Education), the US Ambassador and other important US citizens in the country, and...*gulp*...every major news broadcaster in the country. (I am told that last year, the only thing that they showed on TV were the speeches! The Armenian public is thrilled to see Americans speaking their language.)

Geese! Ugh! I HATE THEM! "Hello, my name is Jenny, and I....I....I am afraid of a pack of geese!" So today I was visiting with Dagan and Lala all afternoon. We talked some about language, and some about culture and history, and some about our favorite Hollywood actors and actresses. While we sat on the patio of Lala's house, protected by a lean-to roof, we enjoyed the small breeze that flowed through and cooled our overheated selves. It started to pour around 5:00, as it often does in the early evening. So I sat with them a couple more hours until the rain died down. (Recall that Dagan, the supposed to be black man, was placed next door to the teachers so they could protect him if needed.) So I finally headed home around quarter to 7:00. By this time the roads resembled river beds and the puddles were full to the brim. I walked by the pond where the geese usually bath, but they were not there -- I was incredibly relieved! But I walked around the corner, turning down my road, and there they were! Once more, momma goose saw me and instantly started hissing and running at me. And so, once again, I turned away and started running. So now I'm standing on the side of the road, just as before, contemplating how the hell I'm going to get by these stupid, mean birds. About five minutes went by when finally a young man about my age walked by. He wasn't heading down my road, but I didn't care, besides, the geese were only a few meters from where I met him on the road. So, thank God I have a decent grasp of the language, I said "Excuse me, can you help me?" And then I pointed to the geese and made a face showing that I was scared. He laughed at me and walked with me by the geese, all the while speaking to me. (I have NO idea what he said, but clearly he thought I was either Armenian or fluent.) He turned back, I shouted "thank you very, very, very much!" and I ran the rest of the way home.

Haghpat. Last week we visited Haghpat, a beautiful old monastery in northern Armenia. It is located very high on top of a mountain, and was surrounded by very green landscape and rocky, steep mountains. The main church was built between 976 and 991. Several other smaller churches and buildings were added between 1005 and 1250.

Facts about Armenia. Speaking of churches, I learned this week that historic Jerusalem is split into four corridors, one section for the Christians, one for the Jews, one for the Muslims, and one for the Armenians, who are also, by the way, Christian. Today, during a lesson on the judicial system in Armenia, I learned that up until now, a person in Armenia was more or less guilty until proven innocent, and the defendant, regardless of the charge, had to take part in a trial while sitting in a cage. Another human rights violation which is just now being outlawed is something called "Administrative Detention", under Administrative Detention, the police could put someone in jail if they thought they were a suspect. We were also given a lecture about the Armenian genocide. The Armenians were attacked by Turkey in 1915; 1.5 million Armenians were ruthlessly slaughtered because of their Christian religious beliefs. A couple quick points: it is noted that Hitler used the Armenian genocide as a blue print for the Holocaust and the Turks refuse to agree that this was genocide; this is a very big part of why Turkey and Armenia still do not get along today. This is a gloomy subject, but I think it's important for me to share it with my friends and family as it has certainly has made a huge impact on this country and its relationship with Turkey. (I heard a theory that the powerful Armenian diaspora is responsible for keeping Turkey out of the European Union. I can't back this up with any facts, but is certainly an interesting theory.)

FAQs. I was on the phone with Carol (my stepmom) the other day when we suddenly got cut off. The phone booths are little offices, with a desk and an attendant. The attendant places the call, then the caller goes into a little silent booth to conduct the call. (But the booth isn't silent and anyone sitting where the attendant is sitting can hear every word.) Well, after the call was cut off, I peeked out and the lady noticed that the call was cut off. Of course, she doesn't speak English, but I understood that the connection was lost and that it would be a few minutes until she could get it reconnected. In the approximate two minutes it took to get a connection, she asked me my age, if I have kids, if I'm married, and if I want to marry an Armenian boy. These may seem like pressing or difficult questions to you, especially given that these are questions in a new language. But fear not, our teachers warned us that we would be getting these questions, and learning these questions and how to answer them were some of the first things we learned. After I was reconnected and finished the phone call the attendant, who was probably around 50, invited me to sit with her, she was very impressed with my straight, white teeth (this is pretty rare here!). She offered me cucumbers and then got out pictures of her family, and one of herself at the age of 17 (strange, I know). This is a pretty common type of situation, it is a very kind and welcoming culture...and inquisitive too!

Packages! I received three packages today, and boy was it a great day! All of the sudden several people ran up to me to tell me that there were "three really big packages" for me in the mailroom. I took the packages to the auditorium where we were having class. The other trainees were so excited, maybe even more excited than I was! One guy walked up and said "are all of those yours?" I told him that they were, and he gave me a high five and congratulated me! Lots of inquires about the contents kept people lingering around my seat all day. I opened the smaller two of the three packages as the mystery was getting to me too. The first was a large envelope of magazines from my friend Karis. One girl grabbed the "Real Simple" magazine and said "I've never seen this before, can I borrow it for the night?" Of course I like to share, but I just pulled the magazines out of the envelope! Oh well. My villagemates were so excited; they started pulling things out of the small box! Bob (part of the married couple, he is in his 50s) got really excited about the balloon animals and started trying to make something. Dagan wanted to know what I asked for exactly so that he could tell his family the same thing in hopes of receiving some of the same stuff, but I think Dagan wanted these things for himself! Anyway, when I got home I opened all packages completely and took out all the contents. Both were full of very nice gifts for my host family and a few things for me as well. I will give the gifts next week, closer to when I depart. At any rate, it was incredibly fun to receive a package, or a few for that matter, not just because of the contents, but because of how joyful it made me and all of those around me.

Karis, thank you so much for the great reading material! I love all the magazines you sent! Of course, it was nice to get a little note from you too!

Aunt Laurie and Heather, as always, you have sent the perfect gifts for me and my family, thank you! (Aunt Laurie, I have to mention that I had to slap a few hands of the volunteers that tried to steel the Magnadoodle! Heather, I am very excited about the pedometer - for some reason the increased bread, pasta, potatoes, sugar and salt intake doesn't agree with my waistline!)

Farewell. Over the last week, two more trainees have decided to quit the Peace Corps. One girl, Melissa and one boy, Kelvin. I believe Melissa left because she wasn't happy with her site, and Kelvin left for personal reasons. Melissa is from Virginia Beach and Kelvin from Washington state. They were both great people and of course they will be missed. Now we are down to 44 trainees.

Well, as always, I have written way too much. Hey, that's what skimming is for!

Love,

Jenny

Ps. I'm sorry if it sounds like everything was done "today", I usually write these emails over a few days, and when something exciting happens, I write it that night.

Pss. I stayed up until 2:00 AM last night watching Annie! The best movie ever! :)

Hello!

Read this email first – then continue on to “I LOVE CEMENT!”

I’m sorry it has taken me so long to write! So much has happened since my

last post! I’ll start with a quick story, a little bit of information

regarding the Peace Corps in Armenia, and then move on to a chronological

account of my last month.

Well it seems I’ve experienced my first dose of anti-American sentiment.

As I walk to school, the bus stop, to a friend’s house, to the center of

the town, basically anywhere, I have to walk by a large puddle that takes

up most of the road. Some days there is less water, depending how much it

has rained the night before. This particular day the puddle was extremely

full and muddy. As I approached the puddle, I noticed a group of geese

walking around in the muddy water. We had met a few other times and I knew

these geese were not fond of me. So I continued, walking quietly and

quickly, but momma goose did not want me to pass! When I was about 10 feet

from the puddle she started hissing and screaming, then she stuck her neck

out and began running at me pretty quickly. Of course I turned back and

ran. (Ya, I’m not ashamed to admit I ran from a bird!!!) Once I was far

enough away, the goose turned back to join the group. So I stood there,

staring at the puddle, fully knowing that the geese were not going to let

me by. (Did I mention this is the only route? Of course it is!) I tried

to tell them “I’m your friend, I don’t eat your kind!”, but I don’t think

they could understand my accent! Anyway, much, much, much to my luck, some

ladies came along about five minutes later. I pointed at the geese and

shook my head. The ladies laughed and said “oh Jenny-jon”, then they

signaled for me to follow. Of course the geese moved right out of the way

for them. Nice ladies – I’m sure that made the village gossip ring for a

few days. (Speaking of gossip, until that point I’d never seen those

ladies before, but of course they knew me.) Oh, and in case you are

wondering, it hasn’t rained lately, so I’ve been safe – and no, I still

don’t have a method to get by those birds!

A few of you have asked questions or made comments that have prompted me to

explain how the Peace Corps works here in Armenia. (Keep in mind that

every country does things a little bit differently.) One group of

volunteers is brought in annually, usually in June. (Some countries have

several groups a year.) Each group is titled according to the number of

years Peace Corps has been in the country, the Peace Corps has been in

Armenia for 13 years, thus my group is called the “A-13s”. (Over the last

few weeks most of the A-11s have finished their service; the A-12s are

around and are very helpful both during formal trainings and during

informal gatherings.) Each year Peace Corps Armenia requests 50

volunteers. Last year they received 52, this year (my group) they received

47. Peace Corps Armenia works in four areas, as I have explained

previously, Health Education, Environmental Education, Teaching English as

a Foreign Language and Community and Business Development. From June to

August everyone in the group stays together for PST (pre-service training).

This year PST is in Vanadzor, a city a couple hours northwest of Yerevan.

We are all placed in small groups in villages outside of the city.

On July 5th we finally received our site announcements (more on that to

follow), or rather where we will live and work for the next two years (up

until this point, we didn’t know). From July 14-17 we went to our sites

for a visit; to see where we will work, meet our co-workers, and our new

families. It was also during this time that we met the A-12s (other

volunteers) that are at our sites, volunteers that work in the same

village, town, city are called “sitemates”. Some volunteers are the only

volunteer in their town, while others work with up to 6 in their city or

near by region.

If our program managers and language teachers recommend us and we pass our

language proficiency exam and technical competencies, we will be sworn in

as volunteers on August 15th. This is a formal ceremony in Yerevan

including our country director, possibly the Ambassador, and

representatives from the Armenian government. The day after we are sworn

in we move to our sites. We are split up into 46 different villages, towns

and cities across Armenia. Many volunteers meet on the weekends in Yerevan

for fun (and a shower!), and the Peace Corps will bring us together several

times throughout the year for training and conferences.

I hope that helps to paint a picture of how the Peace Corps works in

Armenia. Now a brief chronological account since my last post on June 30th.

July 4. To celebrate the 4th of July we had a big picnic a little north of

Vanadzor. It is a beautiful part of Armenia; very green and surrounded by

mountains. All the Peace Corps Volunteers in my group came (46) and we

each were allowed to bring two family members (and the kids of course). We

sat in groups according to our villages, and ate “horavatz”, Armenian

barbeque. We played soccer and Frisbee, some of the volunteers brought

their guitars, and some of the Armenians played music from their cars so we

could dance. It was really a great day. Unfortunately, one of the

volunteers got kicked in the jaw during an (intense!) game of soccer – it

was a little bit too serious for the doctors here so he was sent back to

the United States for proper medical care. We haven’t heard from him since

he left, but of course we all have high hopes that he will return to us!

(When our medical needs surpass the care that is offered in country, we are

sent to Washington DC to be cared for in America. If the problem can be

fixed in a certain amount of time, the volunteer can return – after so many

days the volunteer is not eligible to return.)

July 6. I finally found out my site for the next two years. I will be

living in the forth biggest city in Armenia: Hrazdan. Hrazdan is located

in the Kotayk marz (state). It is only 40 kilometers outside of Yerevan,

and is about a 40 minute ride by marshutini. Hrazdan is a city that was

created during the Soviet era to produce products for the Soviet Union.

There are three large factories in Hrazdan: one that makes cement, one that

makes small mechanical products and one that is a hydroelectric plant.

(From the main road, all that can be seen are the large towers from the

cement factory.) I have been assigned to the Burning Star NGO. Burning

Star is a youth development NGO; it was established in March 2004 by five

young citizens of Hrazdan (3 women and 2 men in their 20’s) that want to

create a better life for the youth of Hrazdan. They were encouraged and

helped by two Peace Corps volunteers that were working in Hrazdan. I am to

help them become more sustainable and more organized. I am also assigned

to 3 other NGOs in Hrazdan, though Burning Star is my primary site, it is

noted that these other three need my help as well: the local human rights

library (a branch of a bigger facility), Doctors of Hrazdan and Women with

University Education.

July 8. Happy Anniversary Heather and Mark!

July 9. I got my first Armenian haircut -- nothing drastic, just a trim.

The salon was nice. The stylist didn’t wash my hair as I am accustomed to

in the US, but rather she just sprayed it with some water. Nothing else

too different, but she did continually tell me that I am very beautiful.

(Story number 1 of 2 about how beautiful I am.)

July 11. Happy Anniversary Chris and Jaime!

July 12. All the A-13s departed Vanadzor and headed to Yerevan for what is

called the “Counterpart Conference.” Each volunteer works with a

Counterpart. This is an employee or volunteer of the organization that we

will be working with. This person is our direct contact in the

organization and in the community. Once we got to Yerevan we split up into

our separate sectors (I’m Community and Business Development in case you

forgot.) and met with some different organizations around the city. Then

we returned to our hotel for a brief reception to meet our Counterpart. My

Counterpart’s name is Kristine – more on her to come. Yerevan is a

beautiful city! It truly is a 1st world city and very European. It is

also incredibly hot and no, there is no air conditioning (expect at the

Marriot Hotel which is $200 a night – I can’t cut that on my $2 a day!).

Peace Corps put us up in this old hotel just off the main square. It was a

pretty run down Soviet style building. But we had a toilet and a shower

with hot water in our rooms -- these are truly the important things!

After our brief reception one of my language teachers, Lala, gave me and

some of my other villagemates a tour of Yerevan. We walked around the main

square, and down some of the busy streets, through the big parks that are

lined with outdoor cafes, and finally to the opera house. She pointed out

statues and told us about the history of the city. By this time it was

pretty late, with the sun gone it was finally comfortable outside, and the

city was alive with people. It is certainly a city (and country) that

prides itself on the arts – their currency features some of their finest

writers, musicians and artists while these same figures are honored with

large statues throughout the city.

July 13. Happy Birthday Randy!

July 13. All the A-13s and all Counterparts met together for a day of

training. Kristine and I got to know each other pretty well throughout the

day. She is a lovely 24 year old woman, she is not married. She attended

Yerevan State University (one of the best, if not the best university in

Armenia). She now works as a lecturer of English in the Humanitarian

Institute of Hrazdan (college). She also volunteers at Burning Star. Her

English is great (lucky me!), but of course I will continue to work on my

Armenian, as I am determined to be as fluent as possible.

(Story 2 of 2 regarding my beauty!) Kristine and I were chatting briefly

the first night. She said “All I have heard about you is how beautiful you

are! We have the most beautiful volunteer!” Ok, that is very sweet, but a

few things come to mind. First of all, I have no idea how she heard that

I’m beautiful! Of all the good gossip to spread about me, I cannot believe

this is what is being spread. But moreover, why didn’t she hear about how

smart I am, or hard working, or energetic or any of those other things that

are good for the gossip chain?! :)

After the conference Kristine and I went our separate ways for dinner. I

joined my Darpas villagemates and we found the only Mexican restaurant in

Yerevan. It was actually pretty good. Then I met up with some A-12s that

agreed to show us A-13s the night life in Yerevan. First we met at a bar

just outside the opera house, a sort of sidewalk cafй/bar, the name –

OperaBar. (Damien, I will take you there when you come!) After meeting at

OperaBar we went to a little pub, the Wild Wild West, it was full of

locals. But the A-12s frequent the bar, so the owner knows them and is

very fond of their business. Then we moved on to a bar called Cheers (yes,

I’m serious) and it is full of expatriates. It was really fun to run into

Americans, all there for different reasons. Many American-Armenians come

to Armenia to volunteer or work, and of course there are the Americans that

work for the American organizations in Yerevan. I had three beers and a

shot of vodka (Grandma -- don’t tell Deedee!) for a total of $3 American

dollars – cheap for American standards, but remember -- I only make $2 a

day.

(Language story 1 of 3). When I got back to the hotel I checked in at the

desk to get my key. (This is how they do it.) The lady was very nice, and

we talked back in forth in Armenian. While we were standing there a man

from the floor above us came down, and in English he said “there isn’t

anyone upstairs, I need my key!” The lady looked at me, she didn’t

understand him and she wanted me to translate. So I said “there isn’t

anyone upstairs, he needs his key.” But actually, I said “there is

no….next”…*point up to the next floor*…..”he wants his”….*shake my key*.

She smiled and thanked me for translating and said my Armenian was great.

A+ for effort!

Continue on to the next email – I LOVE CEMENT!

Start with “YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE!” -- read this email second.

July 14. Kristine and I met at 9:00 and left our hotel for Hrazdan. We

took the subway two stops to pick up a bus that could take us to our

marshutini. (The subway only has one track; it was built in the 80’s.) We

took a bus to the station where we picked up a marshutini. It took about

40 minutes on the marshutini to get to Hrazdan. I mean this in the nicest

possibly way – Hrazdan is ugly! I noted previously that the city was

created to serve the Soviet Union. It is simply one ugly, Soviet style

concrete apartment building upon the next. The streets are worn down and

the central square is lined with abandon buildings. I will do my best to

get a picture of the Soviet style apartment buildings I keep mentioning.

To create a society of equality, all the buildings are the same, showing no

individuality or beauty. Hrazdan is nestled between four hills/small

mountains. Luckily these mountains hide the monstrosity known as the

cement plant. In the center of town is a large square where people walk

and sit, there are fountains in the middle that I didn’t see running, and

the mayor’s and governor’s offices are also located there. Two other

noteworthy things about Hrazdan that I’m sure will play into my work: at

best guess 55% of the city is not living there (many, many empty

apartments) – I assume most have moved abroad to find work or have moved

“home” and finally, since Hrazdan was “created” by the Soviets there is a

lack of ownership, most people moved to Hrazdan to work in the factories

(which today are working at a much reduced rate) – therefore, “home” is

somewhere else. This city was created as an industrial center, a place

where many Armenians moved their families for work – and now, since the

factories have shut down (for the most part), and there is no true loyalty

to the city, there is very little liveliness lingering around Hrazdan.

Anyway, once we arrived in Hrazdan, we headed straight to meet my new

family. I will be living with a family of four, Gabriel the father is 40,

he works as a policeman and he also owns 2 pharmacies. Nelly the mother is

38, she works as a lecturer of the Armenian Language in the Humanitarian

Institute of Hrazdan. Sona, the daughter, is 17; she studied in the US for

a year and is now attending the Economics University in Yerevan. Zaven,

the son, is 12; he is busy in school and acting like a 12 year old. Sona

is great, of course it’s nice that we can speak together and she has been

to America, but she is also quite brilliant and has a lot to offer about

Hrazdan and Armenia. This is the best of both worlds, she can help me get

situated with the family and can help explain some of my American habits,

but then she will leave to study in Yerevan, only coming home on the

occasional weekend -- no one else in the family speaks English. I love my

family now, but this is a better fit for me. For one, it is much quieter

than my house now with younger kids. But more importantly, this family

places a high level of importance on education. Sona’s parents are paying

for her education, which is probably around $700 a year – this is a lot

considering the average Armenian is making around $800 a year. The mom

works outside of the house, and the dad jokes with the kids in a way that

reminds me of my family. Perhaps the best part is that I think they are

going to give me a little more independence. I got home after visiting at

my office for a while and they said “we are going to the neighbor’s house

for coffee, do you want to come or stay?” I told them I was tired and

wanted to put my feet up for a bit, they said “no problem, eat what you

want, rest, we’ll be back later.” Music to my ears!!!

(Language story 2 of 3.) One night I was sitting with my family in the

living room talking. Sona and I were sitting on the couch and so the dad

said he wanted to take our picture with his cell phone. (Nicest cell phone

I’ve ever seen!!) He took a cute picture, and then he said he wanted to

take another. So he (pretended) took another picture, and he turned the

phone to show us and it was a picture of two monkeys sitting together. So

we all cracked up. I’ve mentioned to you before that we always talk about

monkeys in our language class (ie. “I have a cat, but I don’t have a

monkey.”) So I said “We aren’t monkeys!” in Armenian, with correct grammar

and everything. Then everyone started laughing harder, and I realized I

said “We aren’t shoes!”. The word “monkey” and the word “shoe” are similar

– oops!

After visiting with my family we went to the office. The office is located

in an old school and shares the space with a rug making company. (Armenian

rugs are some of the best in the world – fascinating to watch them work!)

We have one room, which contains 5 old computers, a small library, a TV and

tables for meetings and classes. They conduct regular English classes,

offer trips to other parts of Armenia, have movie night, and work with the

youth on the computer and internet.

Also, while at the office, I met my sitemate (I explained above that a

sitemate is another Peace Corps volunteer working in the same village, town

or city). My sitemate’s name is Ed Cook. Ed is 63 years old. Actually,

Ed is an A-10. The first winter here (in 2002) Ed fell and broke his hip.

He returned to the US and came back in the summer of 2003 with the A-11s.

Most of the A-11s have left, but Ed has decided to extend his service for a

year. He is an English teacher, and works at the Humanitarian Institute

and at Burning Star. He is a great man and it is clear that the people in

Hrazdan love him and respect him. I’m really happy for this.

Over the next few days Kristine and I did some work and visited. I set up

my bank account, and she introduced me to her family. While on the bus to

the bank, a woman started talking to me in Armenian (remember, I told you

that I look like an Armenian). I looked at her, confused. So Kristine

laughed and explained to the woman (in Armenian) that I couldn’t understand

her. So the lady said, “of course” (in Armenian) and started speaking in

Russian. Kristine laughed again and said “no, she is American!” (I have

them all fooled!!!)

One more thing about Hrazdan. I will be living in an apartment, as all of

the living facilities in the center of the city are apartments. Anyway,

there is a toilet like the type I am accustomed to in the US. (ya!)

However, there is not a shower. Also, as is typical in many parts of

Armenia, the water only works a few hours a day. The electricity shuts off

periodically, and the phone is off more than it is on. My family said we

are supposed to be getting gas and hot water soon, but who knows what soon

means; and when we do get it, who knows if it will actually work. So to

stay clean, it’s all about the bucket bath (and occasional trips to

Yerevan!). The family keeps water in the tub for the outages, and can warm

a bucket either on the stove, or with a small electrical device that heats

the water.

July 17. After a few days at my future site, I returned to Yerevan to meet

the other A-13s to return to Vanadzor. Though Hrazdan is not the prettiest

site, I believe my job is a perfect fit for me, I love my coworkers and my

Counterpart, and my new family is great. Also, I am very centrally

located: just outside of Hrazdan is a resort (skiing!) town called

Tzaghkadzor (sounds like “Zach-ah-zor”), I am only 40 minutes to Yerevan,

and am about 10-20 minutes from Lake Sevan, the only lake in Armenia which

is where everyone goes during the hot summer months.

(Language story 3 of 3.) While in Yerevan for a few hours waiting for all

the volunteers to regroup I ran out to get a bite to eat with some other

A-13s. We stopped at a little roadside stand and we all got something.

The two boys that I was with didn’t really speak, they just kind of pointed

and gestured – they did all the ordering. I picked up something for

another friend and wanted a bag to carry her food. So I asked “Do you have

a bag?” in Armenian, and judging from the reaction I received, you would

think I had just offered the server a million dollars! She smiled and said

“of course” and then continued asking me if I was studying Armenian,

extremely excited about my ability. Ha!

July 18. Back to Darpas and our normal schedule including language class.

July 20. I took a field trip to visit GLOW Camp, Girls Leading Our World.

GLOW is a camp that is co-sponsored and co-run by Peace Corps volunteers.

It runs for three 1 week sessions for girls ages 16-21 that don’t have

jobs, aren’t in college and aren’t married. There have been positive

results from past participants, but this is the first year this specific

population has been targeted. I hope to get involved with GLOW Camp next

year.

July 23. Happy Birthday K8! (We have a field trip planned for Saturday

July 23 to two local historical churches. More on that at a later time!)

July 25. Happy Birthday Anne AND Jeff!!!

Done, finally! I will try not to go as long without an update!

Hajo!

Jenny

Ps. To those younger readers out there, my fellow volunteers are full of

jokes about the cement plant: “Jenny from the ‘cement’ block”.

Hello! I finally know where I will be living for the next 2 years! Here is the information about my new home, I'm VERY excited!

City: Hrazdan

Marz: Kotayk (Marz is the same as state.)

Hrazdan is located about an hour from Yerevan and about an hour from Vanadzor where I'm living now. Its considered a city -- they claim the population is about 60,000 -- but it is probably more like 25,000. It is very cold and windy in the winter and is at 5, 465 feet above sea level. (Higher than Denver!)

Hrazdan is not an old town. It was established during the Soviet era. It used to be a village with a couple hundred population, but since the Soviet era, it is known as a major industrial area. There are 6 large factories and 32 small and medium enterprises registered in Hrazdan. (I'm not sure how many of these are still active!)

Name of the Organization where I will work: Burning Star NGO

Information about the Organization: The NGO was organized in March 2004 by five young residents of Hrazdan. The organization's main focus is youth development -- it works to integrate the youth of Hrazdan into the community.

Counterpart: A young woman named Kristine will be my counterpart, she is an English teacher at the local college, Hrazdan College. (The "Counterpart" is the person that I will work with the most, she will be my point of contact in the organization and city.)

Needs: The organization needs support in developing their NGO, in organizing training and other educational events for youth.

Notes from my program director: There are four NGOs in Hrazdan and together they applied for a Peace Corps volunteer. The NGOs are: Burning Star (they will be my main site), Human Rights Library (an organization dedicated to protecting the rights of the Armenian people, as well as educating 8th, 9th, and 10th grad students about human rights, civic education, and state and law), Doctors of Hrazdan and Women with University Education. My program director believes my experience with nonprofit management will be very helpful in Hrazdan, both in working with the Burning Star NGO and in bringing these other organizations together and increasing teamwork.

My new family: I will be living with a family in a 3 bedroom apartment. The father is 41, he is a policeman. The mother is 39, she is a teacher of the Armenian language at the local college. They have a daughter, 17, that lives and studies in Yerevan. She speaks English and has been to America. They have a son, 12. I am really happy that I will be living with a policeman -- my program director noted that people in the town will know that I belong to this family and will certainly leave me alone!

There is a map of Armenia on my website (www.jenniferzeisler.net), and you can see the Marz (state), Kotayk and City, Hrazdan on the map (just above Yerevan). It is only about 10 minutes to Sevan, the resort city on Lake Sevan. (As well as an hour to Yerevan and an hour to Vanadzor as I noted above.)

This is a great job and a great site, I'm very happy! More later! Gotta run to a pizza party! :) Yum!

JZ

ps. To those interested, there are other updates on my website.

Hello! Barev!

Letters and Language. We have officially made it through the alphabet, all 39 letters. I feel much better knowing that I can read; I practice writing everyday through homework assignments and classroom work. I find I pronounce words better if I read them in Armenian rather than try to write them in transliteration form; there are some sounds (like "kha" and "gha") that aren't in the English vocabulary, so I end up putting together a ridiculous combination of English letters to try to match one Armenian letter.

My language teacher, Svetlana, said my language is coming along very well! In just three weeks I can read, write and make [basic] complete sentences. I can speak in the present tense and the future tense, and can make things possessive. I can tell about myself, my family, food and I know how to count. She also said my pronunciation is great and that I hardly have an accent - this is either do to my good music ears, or the fact everyone in my host family was taught under the Soviet system (a very perfectionist mentality) and they make me repeat the word until it is perfect.

Laughter. Laughter comes in every shape and form, and it comes often. But anyone who knows me shouldn't be surprised by that! When riding in the old run down cars and vans, the incredibly bumpy roads feel even bumpier. We were all laughing about how we are quite shaken up after one of those rides, and one of the volunteers noted "Peace Corps volunteers are shaken, not stirred." It is silly little things like this that keep us smiling through our least favorite parts of the day.

Little ones. My family is great, and in general I'm really feeling comfortable here. There is still a steady stream of visitors, but I think that is partially to meet me and partially part of the culture. I feel comfortable going my room and closing the door whenever I feel the need for some privacy, and they respect that. However, over the weekend they bought a new wardrobe and bed for my room (I'm not sure why they did this now - I think it could have waited until I left) -- it is Peace Corps policy to have a lock on my door, so they really can't enjoy the new furniture until I leave. Much to my dismay, people are constantly traipsing in and out of my room to view the new purchase and load the new wardrobe with clothes. (Kind of puts a damper on my privacy!) Hopefully that too will die down.

On to the little ones - they are great! Someone asked how old the kids are and what gender; Haykanush (whom we call "Haykush") is five and Hamlet is three. We have started a little routine -- when they see me walking down the road to the house, they yell out the window "Shhhhen-ee-ferrrr" and come running out to greet me; I then, excitedly pick them up over my head and set them back down. They have also found out that I'm a great tickler, and sometimes will sit at my feet just so I can tickle them. Hamlet insists on sitting on my lap whenever possible and he ALWAYS sits next to me at the table (not only does he sit "next" to me, but he pulls his chair as close as possible to mine and sits to the side of his chair so that he is basically leaning on me. He always eats whatever I eat and last night he even took bread from my plate!). Haykush likes to sit next to me as well, but she is not quite as determined as Hamlet. She is, however, very fond of being picked up and hung upside down. Both carry on full length conversations with me despite my inability to understand them. Hamlet has declared that I will not move out of this house or leave Darpas.

Large truck. For some reason, my family owns a HUGE truck (in addition to the VW bus I have mentioned before). I'm not sure where the truck came from or what it is used for, but it is very large - it sort of reminds me of a cement truck, though without the oscillating part in the back. Anyway, Papeek (grandpa) drives it to work some days (perhaps it is his drivers training car?), and when he does he drops me off at school. I always feel like I'm in a Monster Truck, and after those rides, I'm certainly "shaken, not stirred."

Lots of Remittance. Last week in my business class we had three visitors, a woman from USAID, another form UKAID and a man from the UN's similar program. Without boring you about the details of the work they do here, I can sum it up by saying that in general, these programs are dedicated to the following: increasing employment opportunities in the country, democratic reform (civil society strengthening and anti-corruption), business development, energy aid, water improvement, and the environment. An interesting fact is that Armenia has one of the biggest USAID budgets in the world, and that per capita, Armenia gets the third most aid from the US (first is Israel, second is Egypt). This is, so I'm told, due to pressure from the large, successful/powerful Armenian diaspora population in the United States. Aside from pressures put on international aid, the diaspora is responsible for sending an incredible amount of remittance back to the country.

Laundry. Oh boy laundry. I did my first batch of laundry [by hand] and it was not my idea of fun! It took me about an hour to wash what would fill a half of a load in a washing machine. After scrubbing my clothes by hand, I rinsed them (not very well!), then hung them to dry. Lucky for me (since I didn't rinse very well), my clothes were treated to two rain storms while "drying" on the line. Once they were finally dry they were clean enough and very stiff. Speaking of stiff, my back was killing me and my hands were sore too! It really wasn't that bad, I'm just trying to explain why I will be carrying the scent of Pigpen for the next two years! :) No, really, I'll adjust - and if I don't, I found a laundry service in the city for $1/per two pounds of laundry. Money well spent! Oh, and my poor host mom does sooooo much laundry - if I were her I wouldn't let my kids play outside or eat in their clothes - highly likely I'm sure.

Loss. Monday was a sad day in Darpas. One of my village-mates, Zach, decided to leave the Peace Corps. Zach, you might recall, is one of two volunteers that chose to come to Armenia after serving for several months in Uzbekistan (the Uzbekistan program was closed). Zach came to class Monday morning and said he just couldn't do it anymore and that he had decided to go home. We also received some sad news on Monday -- Steve's mom passed away. Steve is one of the older volunteers -- he said she had been sick and was more or less expecting it. Nonetheless Tuesday evening we all went to Steve's house just to spend some time together and to be with Steve when he was so far from his family.

Life. Svetlana (my language teacher) and I have become friends, which is great for me since there are no women my age in Darpas. We sat and talked for hours over coffee and chocolate on Saturday night. She told me about growing up in Berd, a town close to the Armenia-Azerbaijan boarder. She told about the years between 1988 and 1994; time when things were uncertain due to the earthquake, the war between Armenia and Azerbaijan and the fall of the Soviet Union. She explained how she would go to school, but then the bombardment would start, and they would run to a neighbor's house or to the school's basement. She noted that there wasn't an Armenian Army at the time, so men would just go to the boarder and fight. All the while electricity was sparse, as was food and water. Sveta and I are the same age - I cannot imagine what my life would be like had I gone through all that as a child and young teenager.

Looks. It is my understanding that I look Armenian. Perhaps it's the Russian and Eastern European blood from my Dad; and my curly (and sometimes frizzy) hair is very similar to the Armenian hair texture. Depending on what I'm wearing (and if I'm wearing my glasses), some people come up to me and start talking as though I'm a local. Hardly anyone in Darpas wears glasses - I guess this is partially due to coast and partially due to convenience and embarrassment. I love that I can blend in so easily and quickly - this is one reason I wanted Eastern Europe - not to mention that it makes me less of a target for harassment and stares (though I'm still getting my quota of elongated looks).

Latest news. Here is my catch-all section. :)

The weather has been quite chilly - not that I see the news or could understand it if I did (or could convert the temperature for that matter), but if I had to guess I'd say it's in the low 60's. I've been wearing pants, a sweater and a coat over my sweater. Brrrr!

Next week should be fun -- we are having a 4th of July celebration AND I will find out my official placement. I am a patient person, however, since my program director told me little pieces of where he wants to put me, I've been trying to "solve the mystery" ever since. He said it is in one of the four biggest cities in Armenia, there is a University there, there are 2-3 other Peace Corps Volunteers there now, the organization that I will work for is dedicated to youth development, it was started by Peace Corps Volunteers and is now run by Armenian women. Without Law & Order to appease my detective persona, I've turned to "real life" mystery to occupy my time. Unfortunately, I've gotten no where and will just keep guessing until I find out next week.

Remember the posse of boys I mentioned in my last update? The group of older teenage boys, about 15 of them, that would stand in the middle of the road and stare at me as I walked by; always anxious to greet me? Well, my language teacher came to visit me and noted her own intimidation walking through the crowd. We laughed about it, and mentioned it to my host family. Dadeek (grandma) said if they bothered me to let her know and she would say something to them, Papeek (grandpa) said he would tell the mayor to tell them to leave me alone. It really wasn't that big of a deal, but since that conversation the boys have disappeared! Perhaps Papeek did say something to the mayor! Gotta love small town politics! :)

Love you and later!

Hajo!

Jenny

So much to tell!!!

Hello! (Barev Zez) I have a lot to share. Read at your leisure, and feel

free to skip parts. This is really long! The short version is that I’m

doing great, I love my village and host family, the food is wonderful, and

language class is intense! Read on for details….

I am living in the village of Darpas. It is about 10 kilometers from the

city, Vanadzor. My village is the closest to the city of all the villages.

Darpas is a village of about 1,000 people, and they all know that we [the

Americans] are here. The village is on the side of a mountain, basically

in the valley. Down in the river basin are abandon factories, one upon the

next – this area was one of the biggest industrial centers for the Soviet

Union in the 80’s and 90’s before the fall of communism. It’s a terrible

sight now, especially because now the country is dependent upon its rich

agricultural goods, and the river basin is an ideal area for such industry

– alas destruction of the buildings would take a lot of money, not to

mention the damage that has been done by the lack of environmental

controls. The industrial shut down is also the reason this area is so poor.

Darpas is a nice little village despite the broken down buildings in the

distance. There are houses lining the road, some of which are undoubtedly

better than others. There is only one main road that runs through the

village, and it is in terrible condition. The epicenter of the 1988

earthquake was close to this area, and spending money on the roads is the

least of the country’s concerns. There are large ruts and pot-holes all

over the road -- cracks from the earthquake and big ruts from water runoff

– its amazing the old 1970’s and 1980’s Russian cars can drive on the

streets and not fall apart! Walking to school is a challenge as well; I

have to watch my steps carefully to avoid the large rocks, ruts and holes,

not to mention the piles of poop and the traffic which will definitely run

me over if I don’t move.

Speaking of poop in the road, there is livestock all over the village. In

fact, most animals are not caged or fenced in. Rather, they are left to

roam free, most go up into the mountains to graze during the day, and come

home at curfew (our cows come home at 9:00). There are chickens and hens,

hogs and horses roaming the streets as well. Oh, and I cannot forget the

stray dogs and cats (perhaps I can bring them all back to America?!) --

there are stray dogs and cats everywhere – but they are no bother. They

wonder around looking for handouts, all are much smaller than our spoiled

pets in the US. (Picture scrawny ankle biter type dogs.) People are

generally nice to the dogs and cats, which was of course a huge relief to

me. There is a dog – Chawlo – that hangs around my house. My family feeds

him milk from the cows and other scraps that aren’t fed to the cows or hogs.

I have a long walk each day to school and back home. It’s nice to get out

and get some exercise and fresh air. The walk is probably about 2 miles

and to get to the school I have to walk up a pretty steep hill (picture the

hill in Alanson, left at the light up to the school). All the other

trainees live in the center of the village, but I don’t mind living a

little out of town. When I walk home from school each day between 1:30 and

2:00, I am greeted by a few groups – one, a group of about 10 young (6/7/8)

school children, the other a group of older teenage boys, about 15 of them

that stand in the middle of the road and stare at me as I walk by -- they

always greet me with respect and ask how I’m doing -- I like to pretend

the stares are because I’m the prettiest girl they’ve ever seen, but in

reality, I know its because I’m a “foreigner” or even

worse/better/moreover, I’m an American. I know I am very safe here, all

the villagers know we are here and are very protective, but still, its

pretty intimidating walking the streets and being stared at the whole way!

My house is amazing. I’m pretty sure my family is pretty well off. (Keep

in mind; this is pretty well off for a developing country.) I can see they

have many things that some of the neighbors don’t have (i.e. a shower,

indoor toilet, vacuum cleaner). The other day one of the neighbor girls

(she is 21) came over to borrow my host’s hairdryer, I guess this is quite

a luxury item. Anyway, the house is three stories – the 1st floor is the

basement type area and garage. The basement has a stove and sink, and this

is where they make the break and cheese. The garage holds the

1960’s/1970’s VW bus (a family after my own heart). The 2nd story is where

the family lives. There is a living room, kitchen, bathroom, and 4

bedrooms. The bathroom has a toilet, as I mentioned, although it doesn’t

flush automatically, but rather by running a bucket of water down it. The

shower is just a shower head sticking out into the middle of the bathroom

(tubs are over-rated!), and the hot water heater is heated by a little wood

stove. They warm the water about every other day, so I’m getting to shower

quite often. The upstairs is just an open room – they told me they use it

for parties and other large gatherings.

Meals are wonderful. They know and are very comfortable with me being a

vegetarian. Some of the foods I’ve eaten include: cabbage salad, sour

crout (sp?), pickles, tomatoes and cucumbers, homemade cheese, yogurt and

butter, strawberries, cherries, cracked wheat, pilaf, eggs, homemade bread

(flat bread: lavash), green beans, juice, vodka, and several soups: borsht,

green bean soup, and my ultimate favorite, “Spas”, a combination of their

homemade yogurt, cracked wheat, and butter (among other things I’m sure).

My family is great. My host is Hechine, she is 26. She has two beautiful

children, Hamlet (3) and Hygosheek (5). They love me and always want to

play with me and sit by me. They often have full conversations with me,

one directional conversations anyway. (They speak the international

language of cute!) Also in the house is Papeek (grandpa) and Dadeek

(grandma). They are the ripe age of 50! Grandpa is a drivers training

instructor and grandma works in a factory. (They are VERY lucky to have

jobs!) Hechine’s husband, Gogo, is in Russia, as are most of the men in

Armenia. (He is coming home soon!) There are no jobs here, so most men go

to Russia in search of work. There is a cousin that lives here too,

Arshak, he is 23. I’m not sure what he does, but he is nice. They have

taken me in as one of their own, Hechine calls me her “sister” and the

family in general calls me “their girl.”

There are 8 trainees in my village – Bob and Peggy (married), Steve,

not-married-Peggy, Dagan, Zach, and Andy. Bob and Peggy are in their late

50’s – they have a daughter my age, and served in the Peace Corps in

2000-2002 in Papa New Guinea. Steve is also in his late 50’s, he is a

widower, he is a lawyer/federal judge, and has 3 children whom are 23, 24,

and 25. Not-married-Peggy is also in her late 50’s (dad/carol, she was my

roommate in DC, the one you met), Peggy is a native Alaskan and to sum her

up, she is the ultimate “free-spirit”. Dagan is a red-headed, freckled

cow-boy from Nebraska, he is 22, and his parents were both Peace Corps

volunteers, as was his older brother. He grew up on an Indiana reservation

as his parents have dedicated their lives to working with Native Americans.

(Funny story about Dagan in a minute!) Zach is 23 and from Minnesota.

Zach was a Peace Corps volunteer in Uzbekistan, he started in January, but

because of some civil unrest, the program was shut down. He and another

volunteer came to Armenia – not only does this add to their total time as

volunteers, but they must learn a whole new language. Finally, Andy --

Andy is 22 and from the Northeast. I don’t have much to say about Andy, he

is quiet and not quite as exciting as my other village-mates. :)

So, there was a typo on Dagan’s file, and he was listed as African

American. Armenia is a very homogeneous society, and there are very few

black people in the country. As soon as we got here the country director

met Dagan and of course realized the mistake right away. Well, our

language instructors had already prepared Dagan’s host, explaining to them

that he was black, and that they aren’t to use the term “negro”. The

instructors also decided to place him with the Mayor, because they live

right next door and could keep an eye on him. Of course our village is

small, and as soon as I got here my host family asked me if it was true, if

there was a black man in the village. This turned into a huge joke among

my group. (i.e. No one wanted the black man -- so the Mayor had to set

the example, he put that he was black just to get into the Peace Corps,

etc.).

My schedule is quite intense. The current ten week period (June 8 – August

15) is titled “pre-service training” or PST as we call it. PST includes

classes in language, job skills, cross cultural communication/integration,

safety and security, innovations in education, and health.

We spend the majority of our time in language classes, four days a week we

study language for 4.5 hours, and have review sessions for about 1.5 hours

two other days. Language classes are taught in our villages, so we are

broken up into very small groups. (There are 47 total trainees; we are

split into 6 villages. My village has 8 people. Each village has 2

language trainers.) At first all 8 of us were taking class together, but

now they have split us into two groups. My group is taught by a lovely

young Armenian woman, Svetlana, she is my age and teaches Armenian and

English at a school in her town. They split the groups according to age;

the “older” group is with the other teacher, Lala. Both are excellent

teachers and really wonderful people.

Our lessons are split into two sections. The first part is dedicated to

learning the letters and reading. There are 39 letters in the Armenian

alphabet. The nice thing is that every letter has only one sound, this is

better than English, where many letters have a couple different sounds, or

can be put together with another letter to make another sound. We have

learned most of the alphabet in this short time, and as of today, we only

have 5 letters left to learn. The second part of the lesson is all

grammar. We learn different grammar lessons, and then practice making

simple sentences. We all say ridiculous things using the small bit of

vocabulary we have – things like “I have a book, but not a monkey.” We

learn a lot of verbs at school, but nouns are, for the most part, left to

our families. My family eagerly teaches me 50 new words a day. Of course,

I’m lucky if I retain 5 of those words, as one can only take in so much in

a day.

We study in the local school. The school is incredibly run down. We sit

on very uncomfortable chairs, most of which don’t have backs. One side of

the room is lined with windows that over look the mountains and neighboring

towns, it is beautiful! Of course there is no bathroom, just a hole

outside in a little house (aka, pit-toilet, nothing as luxurious as an

outhouse). I decided the first day that I will never have to go to the

bathroom while at school. With careful planning, all has gone well so far!

 The first day of school some kids threw rocks at us through the

window. None of the rocks hit us, but it was still a statement

nonetheless. Yesterday during our break I went outside with Dagan and

talked with some of the school kids. (The 10th grade students have exams

during a few days this summer.) Anyway, a couple hours later someone threw

something through the window. We thought, “Great, here we go again.” But

actually, it was a bouquet of flowers picked from around the school. (I

think they like us now!)

Two days a week we get together with all of the trainees in Vanadzor.

Those days are full, including language class (of course!), but also all

the other things mentioned above: job skill trainings, cross cultural

communication/integration seminars, safety and security information, ideas

for innovative education, and health care.

For the job skills training, we are split according to our sectors. There

are four sectors working in Armenia: teaching English as a second language

(TEFL), environmental education (EE), community health education (CHE), and

community and business development (CBD). I am a CBD volunteer. There are

11 people in CBD and I am the only woman. We are split into three

categories within CBD: Business, Technology, and Nongovernmental

Organizations (NGO). I am one of three NGO volunteers – the other two NGO

volunteers live in my village, Steve and Bob. (I hope you are following

all this!) We are being trained by three men, two are Armenian men that

have had some part of their education in the US, and the other is a Peace

Corps volunteer.

Thursday we had a lecture about NGO’s in Armenia. A lot of research proves

that philanthropy can help create civil society in Eastern European

countries, but it is quite apparent that the Armenian government is

adamantly keeping the country from becoming a self-sustaining economy.

There is a legal NGO structure here, similar to that in the US

(non-distribution constraint). But, unfortunately, the NGOs are hardly

allowed to do anything. Some information about NGOs: Many NGOs were

created solely for the purpose of getting money from grants to support a

family or a couple people – not for helping serve a social ill, etc.; The

people are so poor, there aren’t really any “donations”; NGOs receive 99%

of their income from international donors; NGOs are taxed for having

volunteers, because the government sees this as “employees”; In the US NGOs

are allowed to raise a profit through sales – Armenian NGOs are strictly

forbidden. For example, the Girl Scouts raises money by selling cookies.

This is absolutely acceptable as long as any profit is rolled back into the

organization. (This is often recommended so that nonprofits aren’t solely

dependent on foundation/donor support.) Armenia restricts any business

activity, even if the income generated is going back into the organization.

So, to sum all that up, the NGOs here are in a desperate situation, there

isn’t money coming in from local/individual donors, they aren’t allowed to

set up any type of income generating business, and dependence on

international donors leaves them high and dry when the international donors

change their focus or refuse to continue funding.

There are a lot of needs that could be met by NGOs in Armenia, but at the

same time, NGOs face a lot of criticism. As you can see, I will be busy

over the next couple years – busy working and busy thinking of ways to work

within the many constraints surrounding my work.

A few last things in regard to my work as a CBD volunteer. There are

several reasons that the Armenian economy is struggling; the fall of the

Soviet Union, the earthquake of 1988, a political blockade between

Azerbaijan and Turkey, and finally, corruption. There is a huge amount of

corruption in this country. I listed one example above: many NGOs were not

established to better the society, but yet to tap into money from an

international donor to serve personal interests. I should also note that

the legal system is extremely corrupt; judges are often bought off as are

the police and other legal officials. The average income in Yerevan, the

capital and largest city in the country is equal to $850 a year.

I won’t find out where I go after training until July 5th. However, I had

a meeting with my program director last week and he mentioned the site

where he wants to put me. He couldn’t say the name of the town, but he

told me about the position. I would be working for an NGO started by Peace

Corps volunteers. The NGO focuses on youth development and it needs

someone (like me) that can help make the infrastructure more sustainable.

Other projects include uniting the other local NGOs. The NGO was started

by a group of women, and my counterpart (or the person whom I will work

with most directly) is a woman that speaks good English. (Lucky me!) He

noted that this organization is in one of the 4 biggest cities, and there

is also a University in the city where I can probably teach if interested.

All this sounds so wonderful to me, I’m so glad they have really matched me

to a place that fits my skills and interests! I can’t wait to find out

officially where I’ve been placed and hope it’s the placement the director

was telling me about!

Oh, and in regard to the parasite, smoking and vodka, don’t worry – I only

have a small tapeworm, have been able to keep to about a pack or two a day,

and really only have a couple shots of vodka with dinner – it’s all just an

adjustment really.  No, no, don’t worry! I have a very good

water filter provided by the Peace Corps to avoid any such parasite

(bummer, I was hoping this would be my secret to weight loss success!),

smoking is not really considered appropriate for women, and though vodka is

on the table every night, if I am offered a bit for a toast, I do at the

other women do – toast with the men, then hold it to my mouth for a second

and put it down. Thus, no parasite, smoking or drinking! :)

Finally, regarding mail – US Postal Air Mail is the BEST way to send mail.

FedEx and DHL can also be reliable, however, mail can sometimes get held up

in customs and to retrieve it I must go to the center and pay 20% of the

claim. I believe US Postal Air Mail is the cheapest as well, but I didn’t

look into this. Also, make sure that if you send food or anything that

appears as a powdery substance that you wrap/bag is very well so that no

powder can leak. Any leak of this sort will look suspicious and get caught

up in customs. Another hint is to wrap your boxes well (duct tape!), and

include a list either in the box or via email so I know if something is

missing.

That’s all for now! (Finally!) I’ll try to get some pictures for next

time!

Good bye! (Hajo!)

Love,

Jenny-Jon (“Jon” is added to the end of names as a term of endearment,

similar to “dear”.)

Ps. I’m so glad that I have a computer so that I can write my emails at

night a little at a time and then just copy and paste them when I get to

the internet café. Thank you everyone!

Hello everyone!

All is well here! Ok, well, I am tired and sick, but that is to be

expected to some degree. I saw the Peace Corps doctors a couple days ago

and they told me I was just jet lagged -- I tried to tell them it was more

than just jet lagged but they wouldn't go for it. I'm pretty sure I have

bronchitis. I'll see them again in a few days and see if they might

believe me this time. And of coures, day in and day out of intense school

on top of still adjusting to the time zone, well, I'm tired.

From what I've seen Armenia is beautiful. Its such a shame, this beautiful

country with trash everyone (typical of developing nations so I've heard)

and abandon buildings (this is thanks to the fall of communism, the fact

that people here have NO money, and there is intense diaspora to Russia,

the US, and other countries in search of jobs).

For the next few weeks of training I am living in the village of Darpas

outside of the city Vandazor. We are split up into small language groups

in the villages for our language training. My group has 8 people and two

teachers. We meet at the local school (which is a couple miles from my

house, up hill both ways!) every day for language lessons. Twice a week we

meet as a big group in the city to talk about job specific skills. I can

take a cab for about $2 into the city. (This is cheap, considering my

lunch today, including pizza and a bottle of water was also $2.) My group

is a total of 47 people -- about half boys and half girls. There are six

married couples. The age split is interesting, I'd say at least half of my

group is over the age of 30 and our oldest volunteer is probably in her

60s. We are split into four job groups: TEFL (Teaching English), HE

(Health Education), EE (Environmental Education) and CBD (Community and

Business Development). I am in the CBD group, specifically working with

NGOs. There are 10 people in my job group and I am the only woman.

My host family is great, of course. My host "mom" is my age. She has two

beautiful children, Hamlet (male of course) is 3, and Hayrogeshy (female)

is 5. Her husband is in Russia working. Also in the house with us is her

mother-in-law and father-in-law, whom I call papeek and dadeek, grandpa and

grandma. They are both 50. :) There is also a cousin or something in the

house. I'm not exactly sure how he is related. My language skills suck,

so we do a lot of pointing and guessing. Dadeek (grandma) says something

to me, and when I look confused, she gets a little closer and says it

louder. That's really fun. There is a shower and a toilet in my house, so

I'm thankful my time of pooping in a hole in the floor is over for now. :)

Ok, I'm getting yelled at to go. So much to tell you but no time. Think

of specific questions, that might help when I only have a short amount of

time. Not sure when I'll be back, but I'll be back sometime. Love you!

Jenny

ps. The food is great. Most of what I eat is from the cows, hens, and

garden at our house -- they make their own cheese and butter. Oh, and my

family is fine with me not eating meat.

Hello everyone! I'm here! After many, many hours of traveling, we made

it! We got in at 4:40am Armenian time (7:40pm EST) and were met by the

Peace Corps staff. Then we drove to a beautiful old temple just outside of

Yerevan with an amazing view of Mt. Ararat -- there we were met by about 60

of the current Peace Corps volunteers (including us, there are about 120

volunteers currently in country -- but one group is about to leave). Then

we drove about 2.5 hours to Vanazador, the city where our training will be

held (10 weeks). We are staying at a hotel for 2 nights and then we will

go to our host families.

After a brief bit of training, they brought us into the city to use the

internet and make phone calls. I won't be calling for a while, as I have

yet to purchase a phone card, or learn enough Armenian to speak to an

operator. Just let me know if you need to hear my voice, otherwise I'll be

counting on email for a few weeks. But please know that email will be

occasional too, so be patient if you don't hear from me. I hope this makes

sense, I haven't had a good night's sleep in a long time! :)

Love you!

Jenny

ps. I used my first pit-toilet (I think that's what its called) -- I call

it a hole in the floor -- that was interesting to say the least.

Hello everyone!!! This seems to be the best way to keep in touch. Please check back often for updates.