Picture a Day: Mountains Beyond Mountains

In the same vein as my hometown's Worcester Magazine 1001 words feature, I decided that for my AVC blog posts, I'd rather do more showing than telling. Unfortunately I don't feel I can be quite as succinct as the photographers over at WoMag, so 1300 or so "words" will have to do for each of these 5 posts that I'll use to wrap up my time as a volunteer in Armenia.

Mountains

“The mountains,” I answered to the AVC coordinator's question about what surprised me about Armenia after my first weekend in the country. “They’re just completely different than anything I’ve ever seen. I expected you know, New England mountains, with trees,” I continued. And while coming into a country whose constitution is newer than the US constitution's latest amendment, a country in which I barely speak the language, a country in which power, gas, and water outages are daily occurrences, it was the mountains that struck me most.

Two months later, starting my last week of work, by and large it's still the mountains that take me by surprise in my daily life here, but in a different sense. If you've ever spent time in Armenia you know that to go almost anywhere you have to go up and down mountains—there simply isn't an "around" option because, climb any mountain and what you find on the other side is yet another green, treeless mountain. My time working here in a number of different organizations has found me in similar situations; to get anywhere, there are at least a couple mountains to get over.

My first project with the Gyumri Healthy Centre, the organization I spend the most time with, was to put together a  first aid class for kids of the community. I chose to focus the class on first aid most useful in the summer and naturally included the topic of dehydration. The day I was presenting the lesson plans to the president of the Healthy Centre, I spent at least 30 minutes trying to communicate what dehydration is. While I've always been taught that water is a key component to health, it is widely believed here that water is bad for your heart, will give you high blood pressure, and will make you fat. So before I could suggest teaching children to stay hydrated, I had that mountain to climb. It wasn't until weeks later we were even sure about the Armenian word for dehydration.

Last week I was introduced to the director of ambulatory care in Gyumri and he allowed me to ride in the city's ambulances for the rest of my time here. I asked for a list of the medications they carried on their ambulances so I could make sure I was familiar with them before I actually went on a ride-along, and could keep up with what they were doing. As I was spending hours going through the list of medications they administer in the back of what are often station wagons or mini-vans, I came across the phrase "rarely used in the developed world due to high mortality rates" more often than I would have liked. When I brought this up to the nurse with whom I was speaking the next day she explained to me, the mortality rate is still lower than not giving it at all, and with such a small budget, it's all they can afford. Another mountain.

And while AVC brought me here to "come move mountains," I didn't quite realize that there would a couple to climb before I got to the less stationary ones. Luckily I don't mind hiking.

The End is Near

As I was walking here to write what felt like an obligatory update, I realized the reason that it's become so hard to write these posts recently—updating my friends and family requires that I take a step back from everything I'm experiencing, and the closer I come to leaving, the less I want to step out of it all, even for a half hour at an internet cafe. But since I introduced this as obligatory, I suppose I must go on.

So first, I guess I should start off where I left off. The question of Artsakh. I had the great pleasure of spending more or less 3 days in the Artsakh region and by the time I left, I no longer had the lingering question of why the Armenian government was pouring in so much money into what seemed like an inevitable end.

The third day of the trip we took a (mostly pointless) hike up the side of a large hill and stopped to discuss the situation as it now sits. I asked our leader of sorts, Sevan, a question that seemed the most logical to ask: "what would be the economic impact of losing Artsakh?" I asked the question because to me, that is how a government thinks. Obviously bringing yet another war to the region is not the best for the people of Artsakh and the way the political tension between the two countries is accumulating, war seems inevitable; Azerbaijan continually claims they will reclaim Artsakh, and as Sevan said in response to my "logical" question, "The economic impact of the loss is about 2% of the picture in comparison to the spiritual and emotional loss ... losing Artsakh is just not an option." So clearly someone isn't going to get what they want.

Do I think that war is the best solution to the issue? No. Do I think it is the most likely way the conflict will be more permanently solved? Yes. But the fact of the matter, and the reason my opinion about Armenia's interest in Artsakh changed, is because unlike the rest of the country, progress is evident in Artsakh nearly everywhere. The capital is beautiful and clean, the villages are generally well kept and being continually improved. Unlike Gyumri or even Yerevan, people have invested so much in Artsakh, from fortunes to family members, and if keeping Artsakh means keeping this spirit alive, then by all means, Armenia needs to hold on to it. What I failed to realize before, is that if Artsakh is reclaimed by Azerbaijan, the apathy that grips much of the country will only spread to those who still stand dedicated to improving their motherland. Artsakh is living proof that good things are to come to the country with a renewed Armenian cohesion.

On a lighter note, I've gone on two picnics in as many days and eaten more horovats (no idea how to spell that one) and melon than I ever thought possible. I spent the weekend in Yerevan and had a blast with my friends here. I cooked breakfast both mornings which I definitely haven't done in a long time, and I got a tattoo, which will almost certainly be the last time. I'm making more friends outside of Depi Hayk that are eager to show me places in and out of Gyumri that you just can't see with 30 other volunteers. And I'm definitely starting to wish I was staying longer, and could do more for a country that still needs so much help. But I'm realizing that I'll be back sometime soon. However, let's forget that I'm leaving two weeks from today and appreciate how much fun and how much I'm learning right now, and milk this experience for all it's worth.

And as a prize for reading my blog even when I rarely update, here are some pictures:

Ararat (all my pictures from that day have that spot, so I guess I'll have some photoshopping to do when I get back)

 

Noushig- volunteer from PA, Sofik- host mother, host aunt (whose name escapes me and always has), me, Srap-host father. in our livingroom  

My host nephew, host distant relative, and I about to ride some 4-wheelers

 Sevan at Sevan!

Another host nephew!

And about 800 more here.

Foreign Affairs

It's not that I've gotten lazy that I'm not updating as much; I'm just very busy lately. OK, I guess I'm busy and lazy. But there are three major things I want to touch on that probably deserve their own posts, but won't get them. They are also all strangely related.

Last Monday, Taleen and I went to this man's office with the intention to taste from his extensive wine collection with our incredible Gyumretsi friend Armen. While I don't remember the man's name or the official name of his position within the organization (first class journalism, here), he headed an office that works to build cultural and political ties between the countries of the Caucuses. This fact alone made me excited to speak with him because in my opinion, peaceful negotiations and opening the borders with our neighbors should be a priority in developing Armenia's economy. Easier said than done, of course, but according to this man, it shouldn't be that hard.

If you're wondering why I went to an office that seems primarily focused on politics to taste wine, it's because of one of the many inventive ways they have gone about rebuilding this relationship. The wines we tasted were bottled under the label "Caucasus Blend" and actually mixed wines of Georgia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan. In order to import wine from Azerbaijan, you have to buy it through Georgia, and to sell the blend, you have to send it back through Georgia. But that isn't to say that their office doesn't work with Azeris. On the contrary the man we met with himself works closely with individuals from Azerbaijan and Georgia not only on this wine project but on several projects. It was invigorating to see someone working so tangibly to repair Armenia's relationship with its neighbors. Which brings me to the next topic.

Last Wednesday, all the Birthright volunteers went in to Yerevan to meet with the Minister of Defense. We all met in a beautiful government building outside the city center and the minister first gave us a small presentation and then opened up for questions. The presentation was all well and good but the questions left me and many others either rather disenchanted or more confused. Currently their is a "ceasefire" between Armenia and Azerbaijan. The quotation marks are there for obvious reasons. When asked about how he thought the conflict between the two parties would be resolved, politically or militarily, the minister explained that after the war and the ceasefire was signed, he handed the conflict over to the politicians, and he hoped it would be resolved in that realm. Which I think we were all pleased to hear, but after visiting the region over which the conflict now remains, I think it was said because he knew that was what we wanted to hear (more on that later).

Later he was asked about the casualties suffered on both sides over the past several years. While he avoided offering specific numbers, he assured us that 6 times more casualties were suffered on the Azeri side. While I'm not entirely sure why he thought this fact was reassuring, it did confirm one thing: even though Armenian politicians like to paint the conflict in such a light, it's clear that the unfounded hostility is not one-sided at all. In fact, the man with the wine, as I will now refer to him, assured us that Armenians hate Azeris way more than Azeris hate Armenians. Though I am also not sure about just how much truth is in that statement. What I do know, is that everything changes when you actually go into the conflict territory of Artsakh. And since it's getting late and my family expects me, I'll save that for a post tomorrow. But you can check out some Artsakh photos here. And here's a small taste:

10 Things I Hate/Love About You

So, here is the lighter post I promised (due to electrical outages and computer issues, I've now written this post about 4 times):

10 things that regularly annoy me about Armenia:
1. dairy
2. not knowing what hunger feels like anymore, but always being thirsty
3. the supposed difference between the letters գ, վ, and ք
4. that no women sit in the front of a marshrutka even if 20 of them are cramped standing in the back and no one's sitting up front
5. entitled diasporans
6. that if you ask a young person about their dreams, they usually include leaving Armenia
7. superstitions, especially those that are health-related
8. that the english word 'bribe' is more commonly known than the word 'please'
9. trash. everywhere.
10. they make their ice cream with butter

10 things I strangely love about Armenia
1. the fact that no matter who I talk to, after "where are you from, are you armenian, how long are you staying," the next question is "are you married" from a woman and "do you like our women?" from a man.
2. marshrutka drivers
3. the fact that saying someone is fat is not insulting, just a description
4. freshly made cherry juice
5. the phrase "problem chgah"
6. how good the tap water tastes
7. the sheep at my bus stop in the middle of the city
8. pomegranate wine
9. that strangers are typically trusted because they typically can be
10. THEY MAKE THEIR ICE CREAM WITH BUTTER!!



 For those of you who want to know what a typical week is like for me here: here is a snapshot of my google calendar for the week:

Also, I've been blown away at the number of people reading this blog and even more by all the places it's being read. Here's the map. Each red thing is a different city someone has read my blog in.

Click the pictures for the full size. We're going to a wine factory this weekend! Very excited. Speaking of which, if anyone knows how much the duty is for alcohol (i.e. if you bring back more than 2 liters) please let me know. There is so much good souvenir alcohol I want to bring home for my friends and family!

1 month!

So I've officially been in Gyumri for 1 month (when I first drafted this post), so I think the occasion deserves a post, even though not much is going on. Yesterday Taleen and I had the pleasure of touring the new building of Meghvik, the NGO we teach an english class with that I had mentioned previously. And the most important thing I learned there is that no matter how much money is poured into Armenia from the diaspora, there needs to be some system on this end to make sure the money makes it to the right place. Meghvik Center received a combined $1,000,000 from the Armenian Social Investment Fund, and the All Armenian Fund (the telethon organization) and after walking through the building, talking to the supervisor about the estimate process with the contractors, and having looked at estimates made for a new building for the Healthy Center, I can honestly say I have no idea where about $500,000 of the money has gone.

When I brought this up to the supervisor she explained that the stone they used to build it is very expensive, about 100 dram a stone. So. Let's considering a 1x1x1.5 foot stone bought for 100 dram. If you used only 10% of the money spent on this new building, $100,000 USD, you could buy yourself approximately 350,000 stone blocks (At a little under today's exchange rate). Because 350,000 1x1x1.5 stones is difficult to imagine, instead, picture a stone wall built around a football field, 3 feet thick and 100 feet tall. If you built two of those walls, you'd still have enough to build yourself a handsome garage. For example. But it's definitely not all the supervisor's fault. It probably is her fault that they spent all the money on the building and left none for furnishing or upkeep of any kind, but for two organizations to throw $1,000,000 into a country and hoping it lands where it's supposed to is irresponsible. I'd say almost every volunteer's family has donated through the telethon at some point or even volunteered for it and to hear Meghvik say that no one has ever come from the organization to actually oversee anything is incredibly disappointing. On top of that, the All Armenian Fund's website lists the project as completed, though the building has no electricity, no second floor, and no roof. So not only are they spending diasporan money inappropriately, the aren't making sure it is used correctly, and then they list it as a successful project to encourage more diasporan donations.

I certainly didn't mean for this post to be as angry as it is, but I think something needs to be done about this. Foreign organizations can do all the fundraising they want but unless they have someone on this end to follow through, there's no use.

A more celebratory post to follow.