It’s a curious thing living in a country that has had such a tumultuous history. One only has to look around to get a sense of the past. The dilapidated buildings, half-standing houses, dried up pools, abandoned factories, bookshelves full of dusty forgotten books, stores in disrepair, vehicles left where they took their last breath, broken windows, walls in need of some paint, and schools that are only half in use offer a poignant reminder of the uncertainty of life. As I sit on the painstakingly stuffy and often times slow public transportation the past jumps out at me demanding to be heard. As an outsider from a wealthy country my eyes aren’t drawn to the Mercedes’, Range Rovers, BMW’s, flashy clothes, sparkly jewelry, or big sunglasses that have found their way onto the streets of my village. Rather it’s the striking contrast of the wealth of a tiny minority and the want of the vast majority that turns my head. It’s the remnants of a life once lived along side of the one being lived; It’s the whisperings of the past that catch my attention. With all that time on the bus trying to keep my stomach calm my mind, in search of a distraction, finds its way to visions families swimming in the hot summer sun, strong standing homes with the dinner table full of good food and guests, buildings being used for their intended purpose, factories with puffing smoke stacks and men hard at work, the beauty of the Armenian language being explored with the turn of a page, and cars hurrying to an unknown destination. Its not hard to look around and imagine how at one time everything was new. Its not the wornness that leaves me with a feeling of sadness, it’s the abandonment. Wornness speaks of life being lived, its the abandonment that speaks of a story no longer present. Just that. A History, but one that regardless of its graces and falls amalgamates its people. As the bus rambles on and life swirls around, things abandoned paint a picture of a life once lived and pay testimony to the uncertainties of life and its never ending potential. For anyone looking to uncover the mysteries of the Armenian people, taking a look around as the bus rolls on is a good place to start.

School started this week and what Chaos that was! The first day of school comes with a lot of fanfare and celebration. Some volunteers reported going to big Khorovats’ or barbeques after school let out. Others reported flag raising ceremonies and again parties to attend at their directors’ house. Yet some others reported much like myself, reported speeches by various community figure heads, dancing, balloon waving and student led renditions of the latest hit in Armenian pop culture. As we eagerly prepared for the first day of school myself a bit nauseously as I had to give a speech in Armenian for 50 fellow teachers, 800 hundred students and some parents, the usual frustrations that go along when choosing that first day of school outfit is no different in Armenia than in the US. I remember so well the agonizing task of picking out the perfect outfit and fighting with my mother over what exactly that would be. My poor 10yr. old host sister suffered the same fate that was of course accompanied by tears, foot stomping, yelling and a temper tantrum that fell just short of rolling around on the floor. AHHH the first day of school!

As for myself, of course, I also was concerned about how to make a good impression with my colleagues while capturing the kids’ attention and dressing “cool” enough to not get written off on day one as another boring adult. In the end, I should of known that unless I dressed head to toe in all various shades of the same color there was no way I was ever going to even come close to passing the “cool” test. While we like colors that compliment each other, it’s a bit different here and really only all shades of the same color go together. So yes, I was doomed to either feeling like a banana, blueberry, maybe a raspberry, and most definitely a cherry. Some protesting on my part and some giggling from my host family led me to the old standby of black and white. Can’t go wrong with those I figured…even if I do look like a penguin. As it turns out I was quite right in my thinking as every single person students, teachers and director alike had on black and white. WHEW! Maybe a bit boring for my liking but at least I was safe!

If I was ever nervous about having to stand up before a huge crowd of people and speak in Armenian, there was absolutely no need to be so. During school assembly’s people talk, most don’t pay attention and the ones who do pay attention are undyingly supportive. When my I told my fatherI had to give this speech he advised telling them that when we are born the brain starts working on overdrive and doesn’t stop until we get up in front of a crowd! I think there’s a measure of truth in that! As I was waiting to speak a women walked by smiled and said, “don’t worry just open your mouth and let God do the talking.” Funny enough I think that’s exactly what happened. I don’ t really remember much of it but I know I got through with out tripping, shaking, coughing or worse yet choking. It flowed rather fluidly, I didn’t read off my note cards and my colleagues seemed impressed with my level of Armenian. I do remember having a moment right before I went on where what I was about to do hit me full force. I was about to get up before 800 hundred people and speak in a language I had no clue about 3 months ago. I was the only English speaker for miles around and knew (barely) 3 people out of the 800. I can’t really articulate the feeling but it’s a cross between overwhelming amazement and trepidation that settles straight in one’s bowels. Fabulously, its moments like that that serve as a reminder of what it means to be alive when ALL your cells jump to attention, your mind shuts off and spirit takes over.

Swearing In…

Finally, Finally we are volunteers! I guess that most people can’t imagine possibly counting down the days until they could work for free….and I guess I couldn’t really either, but man its gotta be better than all the training involved to actually get to the point where one can work for free.. Who knew??!! Its funny but swearing in was so anticipated and then it came and went and that was that. I knew that no matter how much we were looking forward to moving to our permanent sites the fact that we would be separated would be a major change…And yes now I can say that week 1 of no Americans has led to some boredom. I can’t believe I ever would be saying that I miss having Americans around as I tend to be a little bit more enthralled by diverse characters, but there is just no one to bounce all my impressions off of. And that means expensive phone bills trying to reach people in the far off villages of Armenia…and somehow a text message doesn’t yield the same gratification as verbal contact does.

I am currently on day 6 of a new sense of freedom, although in many ways the rules have gotten more stringent, and I have slept, slept, and slept some more. I am settling in and waiting for school to start on September 1st. Until then I need to study, facing a school full of kids is a terrifying thought with limited Armenian. Although I will mention that I did surprisingly well on my Language Proficiency Exam, scored well above the novice high requirement and had one of the higher marks of our group of 50. That being said, I have a long way to go…

The other day I had to take public transportation back to our village and let me mention that they pack these Marshutni’s FULL….and then let more people on…its kind of a painful experience. IT unbelievably hot, it doesn’t smell great as one could imagine what that must be like with 25 people all crammed into a van and sweating profusely. And no matter how many times I have traveled around different countries or how much language I have it never fails to be nerve wracking the first time around. By the time I got home I was shaking; as after the Marshutni ride I had to try and figure out why the cab driver was alternating between driving recklessly fast and then painstakingly slow, and hoping I had the correct change so I wouldn’t get ripped off. It seems simple when they have a meter, and they charge by distance and not by travel time, but somehow there always seems to be a malfunction, and skewed prices. *sigh*

If there were ever any doubts about the positive impact we can have in Armenia, the farewell party from the 30 kids we taught during our teaching practicum, was enough to cause goose bumps. Their kind and heartfelt words about how much they were going to miss us and how much they enjoyed “their” Americans was a reminder of why we came and what we are here to do. To top off the bouquets of homegrown flowers and thank-you cards, the sight of our host families with tears flowing as we were loading our luggage into the truck was something none of us will ever forget. The ability to grow so close to a community of people in such a short 10 week time, makes the possibilities of a 2 year stay seem endless; the hearts of the people is where the space for peace-building begins. After all Armenia’s finest attribute are its people, even IF we don’t always understand them 

As we rapidly near the end of training (one week left) I can’t begin to explain how relieved I am that this part is about over. It’s often said that most people who would consider doing a second tour of duty decide against it solely because they don’t want to endure another training period.

So here’s some news on my permanent site placement. Somehow the camping lifestyle most people associate with the Peace Corps is far from my reality. Quite fondly referred to as Posh Core, Peace Corps is taking on a whole new meaning. I guess I won’t have much of a problem being content, living in a Suburb of the capital, 10 minutes from the airport, and in a large village with BMW’s and Benz’s frequenting the dusty dirt roads. The dichotomy makes a striking sight. I am moving in with a family of all women, the husband having passed away some time ago. The three girls 19, 16 and 12 are raised by their mother and their extremely large extended family. Their house comes fully equipped with indoor plumbing, electricity and a beautiful bathroom and shower. What more could I ask for? I have my own room and although in the central part of the house and not quite protective of all the noise a huge family can make, its comfortable and I am extremely fortunate to have such exquisite accommodations. That is certainly not the case for other volunteers as my poor friend Grace who will be in beautiful region in the north has to carry a candle to her outhouse so as not to fall in the hole!

Given that some other volunteers are in villages of about 300 hundred people and mine is 9000 people, I consider myself lucky as boredom is my worst fear. Sacrifices that I make for the cushy accommodations include being in the flattest, hottest region and certainly the most aesthetically displeasing of this otherwise beautiful mountainous country. The Ararat Region named for the infamous Mt. Ararat can be seen from all over the region. So I will be living in a valley with a stunning view of the Mountain that Noah allegedly landed his ark on. Other than Ararat, the region can brag about having the best fruits and vegetables that flourish in the relentless summer heat. (When Armenians hear where I am headed, they make a face of horror and reply well…the winter is nice! ) So I won’t be in the most beautiful site, but I suppose I can’t have everything…at least there are beautiful green gardens behind the houses which will have to provide me my nature fix. Ruth D. must be a reincarnated Armenian because her garden’s are the only ones I have ever seen that can even begin to come close to the gardens here. It certainly gives Organic a whole new meaning. And by the way milk straight from the cow…heated of course…makes the American concept of milk a bit embarrassing.

The school I will be working in has 800 hundred students and is impressive. This school is the teacher training school for the entire region so it comes fully equipped including with a fabulous no-nonsense female director who doesn’t tolerate corruption or endless coffee breaks. The teacher I am paired with teaches a few first aid classes which we will be tag teaming and then I am left to work on whatever secondary projects I can come up. It seems that there are untapped opportunities and I am confident I can find a way to extend beyond the school as we all know my feelings regarding children other then Emma Pires. J

So I find myself again with another transition looming ahead and while I love the family I am staying with now and the region is green, mountainous and with perfectly beautiful weather, I am eager to get the next transition underway. It’s funny how instability leads to a longing for things that I would otherwise be fine with doing without for a few years. Homesickness comes in the strangest of waves. While I can confidently say that I am happy to be here, I fall asleep dreaming about Spain, I wake up yearning for my bike with a Cape Cod beach to ride to, and I spend my days enthralled by Armenia. The first ten minutes of every day is the most difficult and trying to fall asleep is a bit challenging too, but soon I will be in my new site dreaming about Arzakan and the beauty and people that I am about to leave behind.

So here we are a week away from swearing in and I can’t wait for training to be over with. I am sure that when the time comes and it is coming quickly, the safety net of our language instructors and fellow volunteers will be sorely missed but for now the count down is on. I had imagined that as I got older it would get easier to deal with authority however, I know this will come as a surprise :P, I find my self twitching at every new “guideline” that we are presented with. It’s a funny thing but as soon as something that one wouldn’t want to do or even consider doing in the first place goes onto some formal “Don’t Do” list the compulsion to dissent takes on a life of it’s own. That’s not to say that it can’t be reined in, but it’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull and the language/culture facilitators are always in red. Maybe I can blame these compulsions on being a Sagittarius.

One would think living in another country would be feeding the need for freedom but sometimes it’s just the opposite. Ironically its students like myself that I dread having to deal with. I don’t know how I will ever be able to manage a classroom when I can perfectly well understand the pressing adolescent (and clearly later adult) urge to challenge authority. I wonder if the other teachers will appreciate when I encourage speaking out and debate. I mean really, how can anything ever transform or expand if one doesn’t dissent and disbelieve the supposed truths that are fed to constrain behavior. So it’s not the inconsistent running water, the swarming flys which find their way everywhere, the hoarding ants which seem to have no boundaries, the less than friendly treatment of animals, the visibility of absolutely everything we do which leads to the feeling of being in a traveling zoo, the packed schedule, the fear of requesting a condom rather than ice-cream (given the dangerously close pronunciation of the words) or the inability to understand the majority of what people are saying that is stressing me out; rather its the constant inner battle to keep my mouth shut, to do the assigned homework, to represent the US Gov’t and Americans in a way that puts our best foot forward, and to regard the seemingly endless list of rules as guidelines I would’ve set for myself anyways that is straining my nerves to their farthest point.

There’s lots of grumbling, mumbling, muttering and sputtering that thankfully offers some comic relief because without it I don’t know if we’d survive. As a former volunteer mentioned we will never forget training, I think forgive is more appropriate. Fortunately, I’ve landed myself on a committee of representatives from each sector, which meet with the administration to voice volunteer concerns and frustrations. Elected as the health-sector representative, I figure there’s no better place to try and practice some of those Conflict Resolution skills and to get a few things off my chest. While I know that I do unleash a few exasperations here, this is the time to mention that training has been extremely well organized and a lot of wonderful people have put in a tremendous amount of effort to support us. However, grouching along comes with the territory of not enough sleep, over stimulation and a packed schedule. On that note, the weeks are flying by and my Armenian is surprisingly speeding along with my greatest aptitude being counting to 10 and taking 3 deep breaths…. :)

July 5, 2008

So yes I know this is only the second entry and I have been here a month now. Certainly, I must have tons of things to say which is true but I just can’t seem to find the time to write. One might ask how it is possible that time remains elusive when we are only in language class 4.5 hours a day. But the funny thing about being in Armenia is that while there is always time to drink a coffee or to eat a meal, there is just no alone time. People are never alone here unless they are up in a tree harvesting cherries and even then they aren’t really alone because there will inevitably be the family cow nearby making itself heard or perhaps Tateek (grandma) nearby urging the others to join in the harvest. After all, right now the cherries do take priority. I think most of the Americans find the constant attention and family life a bit trying but I guess I can attribute my lack of irritation and only tiredness to having lived with my family for so long, We all know family time at the Brandt’s is quite extensive and in hindsight has been great preparation for living with an Armenian family. J Besides class and cherry harvesting, spending time with my family which I want to do, and other weekly Peace Corps meetings, adjusting to Armenia and the constant stimulation leaves me exhausted. I try to sleep a lot and certainly get my naps in but I am still constantly tired. It has gotten better since the beginning but there always seems to be something to do and the little things which I want to do there just isn’t the time or energy to do them.

On that note let’s talk about the cows. What a difference it is coming from the cushy suburbs of CT, to a straight up village. I do realize that towns surrounding Bethel and I guess Bethel as well have farms with animals, however I just don’t think that can compare to the free range that the animals have around here. So free are they that besides walking down the street, a busy main road I might add, and impeding traffic, a cow wandered straight into our kitchen! I need to explain a bit further by mentioning that our kitchen, bathroom, washroom and cellar type room, are off the house in separate structure. They are attached to the house but are inaccessible from inside the house, so you have to go outside and through another door to get to them. The kitchen is just for cooking and the eating takes place in the main room/living room. But nonetheless wasn’t I slightly flabbergasted when I was in the bathroom one morning trying to take a shower although there wasn’t any running water that morning (there normally is in the morning and evening but very sporadically throughout the day it gets shut off) when not only was I trying to dodge a bee and avoid getting stung, but through the window I saw a cow walk straight into the kitchen that adjoins the bathroom! SO there I was half naked, cold, scared of that damn bee, and now held hostage by a cow that was blocking the door because it was way to big to get all the way into the kitchen! Needless to say that day started off with some slight irritation that turned into a hysterical fit of laughter. J

In the end, the cow found its way out, the bee left me alone, and I did warm back up but without that hot shower I had hoped for.

Fourth of July has come and gone and the much awaited anticipation of our Fourth of July party dissipated. Rather than having class, we threw a party for our host families. I don’t know who was more excited us for being able to eat American food or our families for getting to see us in action. Hamburgers, potato salad (although sadly not that good German kind) but tasty nonetheless, coleslaw, tortilla chips and salsa, pies, fruit salad, chocolate chip cookies, iced tea, and of course roasted marshmallows topped our menu. I have to say in addition to eating some familiar food, the day was an absolute blast! It was like being a kid all over again and getting to run around and play outside. We had the party at a campsite on a beautiful sunny, warm day. We taught the kids and adults how to play all sorts of games, including Red Rover and the Limbo which of course none of us had played since elementary school! We face painted, played soccer, and had a piñata. There was nothing funnier than watching my host dad try out his skills on a piñata while blindfolded and dizzy!

So found feelings of yesterdays festivities close this entry, I hope you all enjoyed the holiday as much as I did. And if you are looking for things to do, give Red Rover a try because it’s hilarious watching a bunch of sober grown adults try to barrel through one another. Lots of Love, Brigitta

This concludes my first official week in Armenia! I cant believe it one week gone already! Living in a village, staying with a host family, eating Armenian food, muddling through the language, what could be better? Oh yeah the week wouldn't be complete without my first major medical mishap. After darting around oncoming cows, diving away from crazy drivers, and having conversations with a vocabulary of about 20 words one would think that I would have enough to keep me occupied. AHHH No, upon going to bed last night I got stung by an Armenian bee that was hiding in my pillow. Having not been stung in about 20 years I was unsure of how I would react but suspected that due to my Hazelnut problem, my sensitivity to allergies would be worse...CORRECT! After benadryl and an epipen a trip to the Medical office in the capital was not only necessary but became emergent. I am not sure what was scarier, the shortness of breath, the swollen and red extremities, the all-over pain and tingling, the shakes and sweating or the taxi driver driving at 120 mph at 130AM dodging potholes, with no gas in his tank or my host father who accompanied me asking about what make of car we have in the US so he could report it back to the driver....*sigh*..nerver mind that I couldnt talk or breathe :)

All jokes aside my host family and peace corps medical staff took wonderful care of me and I even got a long hot shower out of the deal! ...Bucket baths are otherwise common...

So now I can add bees to my list of allergies and apparently although living in a village, in the mountains with tons of wildflowers I was advised avoid them :)

Sounds reasonable right?!

Well....Maybe the bees we will try to avoid but definately not the Honey!

Today we ended our final day of staging! I can't believe how quickly the past two days flew by and I can only imagine that 27 months will go by just as fast. After a near panic attack and disaster leaving from home, where my luggage was way over packed (per usual) and required ripping it apart, taking things out and repacking three times, and then my bag breaking in the car, and an emergency Macy's trip for new luggage en route to Philly, I made it on time and with a huge Migraine. I didn't go to bed the night before and opted to finish all the last minute organizational details that I cant seem to ever get done in a timely manner. I arrived in Philly, tired, emotionally spent and with a gray face and flat hair :) After a teary good-bye from Mom and Dad I could finally begin. What a RELIEF! The prep time leading up to a trip is god awful and I am so happy to be done with it. ON to the next phase!

Staging-Philadelphia: We stayed in a beautiful Sheraton Hotel in a great neighborhood with tons of restaurants and bars. The rest of the people in my group, 50 in total, with 20% over the age of 50, and coming from many different regions and states make for an impressive group. Besides lots of icebreaker activities and Peace Corps policy and procedure, we've spent a lot of time just adjusting to each other, the transition that just happened and that is about to happen tomorrow night. For all of you concerned about safety and security, Peace Corps does a FANTASTIC job with offering support. The staff has been amazing, caring and enthusiastic about the roles in helping us transition and become informed. Athough exhausted I didn't yawn once in 2 days! That's quite a feat without a nap! Tomorrow we depart and I finally found a sense of excitement in all the craziness...until I called home and Mom told me that she wanted to come and get me from JFK tomorrow and bring me home! *sigh* :) Well, some things will just never change and with a new adventure lying ahead for now home is fading into the background... Much love to all,

more when I arrive! YAY! I love airports, overwieght luggage and flying! PS SQUAT TILETS AND OUTHOUSES are definately in my future for the next three months, thank-god for my bike and strong legs, who knew I would need them to squat!?? :)

watch this 8 minute video...very inspiring! Peace Corps 45 year anniversary video

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0fJ0fuxrohw

So here i am at crossroads. The last month as been spent with one foot in Armenia and one foot anchored in Connecticut. Hoooow exasperating but good too :) My going away gathering done in American fashion with a German twist was heartwarming and a great way to finalize my time here. The last year in the US was eye opening and a bit boring after 2 years in Spain, but certainly a learning experince as well. Here I am again, preparing for my next adventure and 27 months in Armenia. THanks to everyone for their support and well wishes! You all making coming back to the US worth it! Much love and stay posted~ Brigitta