Vayk, Vayk, Vayk!

I have lived with my new host family for two days now and I think it is safe to say that it is a million times better here! I had no idea that living with a host family could be so enjoyable…

On Monday the A13’s (my class) swore in as official Peace Corps volunteers. So there you have it, I started my application for the Peace Corps last September, and now almost an entire year later, I have the esteemed status of volunteer. The ceremony was very formal and official, and included all of the Ministers from the areas we will be working-education, health, environment, and business. We were also joined by the honorable ambassador John Evans, who is a big supporter of the Peace Corps (and rumor has it came back from his vacation a day early for swearing in). The rest of the audience was all of the PC staff, current volunteers, LCF’s, counterparts, etc. That, and just about every cameraman and news station in Armenia. The press coverage was impressive. All of these people to shake hands with, have pictures taken and to officially declare the end of the hazing!!! I couldn’t be happier or ready to begin my new life in Vayk.

I left Yerevan early Tuesday morning, but not before first concocting an elaborate scheme to buy a floor fan at the shuka (street market, basically). We had gone looking Monday evening (we being me the married couple that will be living in Yeghegnadzor-my neighboring town and internet point), but in over an hour of walking, looking an attempting to act out the word fan, we found ONE. And it was 21,000 AMD, which is like 50 dollars. Not exactly in the Peace Corps volunteer budget. We actually found two, but when we asked about the second one, a saleswoman jumped in front of it as if it were matter of life and death and told us, in no uncertain terms, that it was not for sale.

Since the married couple and I were the only ones traveling to our marz-Vayotsdzor, for those of you scoring at home-I thought maybe we could talk the marshrutni driver into stopping at the shukas so we could look for fans. At this point we knew that in mid-august this was a bit of a desperate mission and also a bit late in the season as most stores were soold out and most likely not getting any more. Additionally, I still did not know the word for fan, although I had learned that the Armenian word is very long, so they use the Russian word. Very common, but not so helpful considering I didn’t know the Russian word either. So, I managed to run into one of the LCF’s, who happens to live in Vayk, and was going to see us off in the morning because she had a bag she wanted to send with us. I asked her to ask the driver if he could stop for fans. Not only did the driver stop, but he got out of the vehicle, walked us through 8 or 9 different shops, priced the fans for us, explained to the clerks what we wanted, made the salespeople check the fans for working order (as you might imagine, there is not exactly a return policy in Armenia…) and helped us to carry them back to the marshrutnie. Not only that, but he acted as our own personal crossing guard, helpful, considering crossing the street in Yerevan is probably one of the most dangerous things I do (or have ever done). I am pretty sure I will never, ever have a marshutni driver as good as this one! At least I have a fan to remember him by.

Now I am here, in my new, dry, mold-free, and fairly cool (thanks to my new fan) bedroom. It is also quiet, and I have a real closet. Hangers, of course, are a different story. Its enough to make me wonder if there is a trade embargo on hangers…I bought four hangers today, cost me almost 2 dollars, which is far more than an average days pay for an Armenian. They are experts at putting at least 5 items of clothing on each hanger. I have also seen some interesting homemade ones…

I already feel much more a part of this family than I ever did in my previous situation. They take the time to actually talk to me and I have managed real conversations, even about abstract topics like religion. These are often fairly one-sided, with them talking and me nodding and saying yes when I understand, but it is enjoyable, and it is helping me with my language tremendously. I already feel like I speak much better. Of course, it helps that I really want to be a part of this family and genuinely enjoy spending time with them and helping out around the house. Life is more traditional here-the mother does not work, they have an average amount of money (or maybe even above average, but not like in margahovit), and daily activities are a little slower and involve a lot less MTV. They do have a television, but it comes on briefly in the evenings at a normal decibel level.

When I arrived I got the tour of the garden: apple trees, pear trees, apricot trees, grape vines, all sorts of vegetables and flowers, bee hives, chickens, and a turkey. The turkey takes care of the baby chicks so as to scare the cats away. The big chickens are elsewhere, laying fresh eggs. The pears are just in season, and I helped harvest nearly three buckets of them for muraba (like a cross between jam and candid fruit). This is done by one person climbing the tree with a ladder and shaking vigorously. The other three stand underneath with a tarp to catch the pears. I wonder why Peace Corps doesn’t issue helmets for this activity?

Later I got to witness one of the big events of this time of the year in Vayotsdzor: homemade vodka making! I have pictures, but this is an elaborate contraption like one I have never seen before. The vodka is heated up in one end and when it gets really hot, it travels down a long pipe that is inside a bigger pipe. The Bigger pipe has cold water moving through it to cool the vodka. It is strained into a bucket on the other end. I think we sat around for about a half hour waiting for the vodka to come out-the big event. Kind of like watching grass grow perhaps, but the end result is much more exciting. And 78% alcohol, I might add. I sampled a bit of the fresh vodka-approximately a centimeter in the bottom of a shot glass. I nearly died. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I am pretty sure actual flames leapt from my nostrils. I could feel the centimeter of vodka in the bottom of my stomach for the next hour-even after cookies and pears. Note to self. But hey, I had to try it, its part of the Armenian experince for sure.

Now as I am just beginning to fully settle in here, I am leaving. On Friday, with any luck, and pending approval from my Program manager, I am headed to Sevan for a little R and R before heading to Tatev on Sunday. I will be observing the last session of Eco-camps for the summer in preparation for my role with the program next year. Having never been to Tatev, I don’t know what the internet situation is like, so you probably won’t here from for a bit. I have really been enjoying hearing from all of you and promise I will return more emails soon. Life is slower in Vayk and more relaxed, so once I get back from Tatev I should have some more time. Until then, hope all is well stateside!