Hayastan

April 24 Genocide Remembrance Day

markarianlawrence — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 12:59:00 GMT

While the date is still two months away, I am very aware that April 24 is coming up. This is the day that remembers the Armenians lost during the Genocide in 1915-1923. This sad event almost wiped Armenia off the map, killed 1.5 million people and resulted in a great diaspora.

But Armenians are incredibly resilient people and we have kept our culture, language and history alive. I hope that I can pass this legacy onto my children and grandchildren. My mother says if a person has just one drop of Armenian blood in them, this sings to their heart.

Please remember this day in your heart and work toward peace in the world.

Bob

Shoghaken Tour 2008

markarianlawrence — Mon, 2 Jun 2008 02:19:00 GMT

The Armenian Folk Ensemble, Shoghaken (http://www.road-to-armenia.com/music/music.html), that was founded by Gevorg Dabaghyan, my duduk teacher and friend, in 1990, toured the US in January - March 2008. I was depressed because the closest they were coming to Washington State was Berkeley and San Francisco. They started their tour at Carnegie Hall. This is a group of absolute world-class musicians.

But my dear companion and wife, Kristina, wasn't about to give up. Without my knowing, she emailed our friends and family members and asked for a donation to get me to California for the end of their tour. And she succeeded. For my 60th birthday present, we went down there for a four-day weekend. We got hold of Harold Hagopian, the tour producer, and he suggested that we get a motel room in the same motel as the band. So an added bonus was that we got to meet the band members and get to know some of them. We particularly enjoyed our time with Hasmik Harutunyan, the singer, and her husband, Andranik.

I got a couple of duduk lessons from Gevorg and also bought a piccolo duduk that he had made. We had a good time renewing our friendship although I don't know how he manages to listen to me mangling the potentially beautiful sounds of the duduk.

We heard and danced to Shoghaken Saturday night in an old bar/dance hall from the 60's called Ashkenaz. This was a demonstration of instruments, dance instruction and a dance. The next day, Sunday, was a formal concert at the Armenian Cultural Center in San Francisco.

It was a wonderful time and one that I'll treasure forever.

Tsedesutyun.

Bob

Gallery: Shoghaken - Berkeley and SF

markarianlawrence — Mon, 2 Jun 2008 00:59:00 GMT

Shoghaken tour of US

Gallery: Hayastan - last day

markarianlawrence — Sun, 20 May 2007 03:17:00 GMT

Return home

Homeward Bound - the last entry

markarianlawrence — Sun, 20 May 2007 03:06:00 GMT

So I am now home after a fairly uneventful although tiring trip back. It was such a treasure to touch down in Port Angeles and see Jake, Kyle and Sarah's smiling faces waving at me from the terminal and also knowing that Kristina was on the way.

The last day in Yerevan, I mostly walked around and did a little shopping. I brought home some incredible dried fruits that are stuffed with honey or nuts or other delicacies. The man selling them was an absolute fleece master and I had a lot more fruit than I wanted by the time I'd left. However, we will enjoy it tremendously.

I said goodbye to many of my favorite landmarks in Yerevan: the Opera House; the statues of Alexander Spendiarian, Hovannes Tumanian, Aram Khatchaturian and Komitas; the Cascad stairway, the fountains in the park and my apartment. I'll remember them always.

The night before I left, Anahit, my landlady and friend and I went out to dinner and dancing with William (U.S.), Alyce (Great Britain) and Michael (Germany). We had a great dinner in an open-air restaurant that was down in the gorge of the Hrazdan River. This river runs through Yerevan, but we were so deep into the gorge that we couldn't see the city and it was like we were in the forest. A waterfall ran through the center of the restaurant. There was on open oven that made lavash right in front of us. There was also a great dance floor made of stone and lots of people (including us) danced. The dancing is a modern take on traditional Armenian dancing (arms up in the air - sort of like you may remember from the movie Zorba the Greek). But some people did some traditional Armenian set or line/circle dancing. I had a wonderful time.

By the way, check out the two photos I took at London Heathrow Airport. The first one is sort of, "Oh, damn, I got to the airport and forgot to bring my Sea Scooter (a personal underwater propulsion device) with me, but, 'ere now, what's this? They have them at the airport. Oh what luck!"

The second is a no-nonsense message about smoking on a display of Marlboro cigarettes.

I'm sad in some ways to be done with my journey and there are many things left undone. But I am so happy to see my family again. Thanks for being such a great audience for my blog. I took great pleasure in writing these articles.

Now, onto the next phase.....

Sirem,

Bob

Thursday - Lori Province

markarianlawrence — Fri, 18 May 2007 20:28:00 GMT

I think I saved the best for last unknowingly.

I've been a real purist about not taking any tours while I'm here. I picture the mile-high buses crawling through the narrow village towns booting burros, pigs and cows out of the way. And believe me, they do exactly that. Then the tourists from the US, Germany, France and other parts pour out, run the gauntlet of souvenir sellers and immediately start snapping pictures before they even grok where they are. I guess you can see my snobbery cleverly hidden away.

I prefer the messy and uncertain pathway of finding the right marshrutka to get to the right staging area where the long-distance marshrutka or bus takes off from. I can read the signs on the buses to tell where they go and I'm fine with asking where the bus to...goes. Once arriving, it's a matter of finding a taxi driver, negotiating a price and going to the site. This way leads to so many adventures, pleasant and unpleasant both but rich.

Well, to get to Lori Province which contains the Debed Canyon, Haghpat Monastery and Sanahin Monastery is a long drive usually necessitating an overnight stay. I decided to go with one of the local tour services that is well thought of. For a very reasonable price, we had a 12-hour tour through the area which included a wonderful roadside lunch. Khorovats, of course. I hate to mention this to the world but my not-eating-meet world is crumbling a bit. Of course, it's hard to say no when someone has invited me into their house and extended their personality. But there have been the times when I'm out on the street and hungry or at this roadside lunch where I just had khorovats. Doesn't that sound much more, well, refined and foreign than kabobs of pork or lamb? So this is one of the many ways I'm changing here. Don't know if I'll become a blood-dripping-from-the-lips as I eat raw meat carnivore, but the ground has certainly been walked on.

Our very first stop was actually in the province of Aragatsotn. Out in the middle of an endless expanse of pastureland, is the Armenian alphabet built out of tuff stone blocks that are about 6 feet tall and sit on pedestals. Saint Mesrop Mashtots in 405 constructed the Armenian alphabet. This was a major event in the history of Armenia as it gave the country a way to resist assimilation by the various invading groups. This had huge cultureal signficance.

Anyhow, Debed Gorge, the home of Hovannes Tumanyan (another story), Sanahin and Haghpat Monasteries were a real highlight of this trip. The countryside is rough, green, covered with trees and the towns are absolutely luscious - in my definition of luscious which to me means rough in many ways with few of the standards we experience in the US but with a different kind of wealth which includes burros, pigs and cows in the streets.

We got home late and I went out to dinner with Anahit and some of the guests. Again, too late to want to enter a journal entry.

This is my last day. I will probably make one more entry tomorrow at one of the airports. I've really enjoyed sharing these adventures with you and appreciate your comments so much.

Tsedesutyun yev bari chanapar,

Bob

A Night at the Opera

markarianlawrence — Fri, 18 May 2007 20:16:00 GMT

I get lots of comments on how you all are enjoying these articles and waiting for the next one to come out. And I realize that it's been over two days since I've written. I have been having some great adventures over the last few days that ended late at night and I just didn't want to face a stuffy, smoke-filled internet club. I'm sure you understand.

Wednesday I took a day in Yerevan to go to museums and practice my duduk. In the morning I hiked up the Cascad (an enourmous flight of stairs that I've been running a few times a week). At the top is a large park with a lake. Yerevan is actually filled with parks. They are everywhere and go for blocks and blocks. This one contains the statue of Mother Armenia (Mayr Hayastan). She stands about 70 feet tall and has a huge sword in her hand and grimly faces Turkey and Mt. Ararat. Underneath her is a war museum that is full of pictures, guns, diaramas etc. Outside are tanks, a MIG jet and other weapons of destruction. Not my favorite museum but a nice walk there and great view of Ararat.

Next I went to the Sergei Parajanov museum. He was a famous film maker, artist, screenwriter and so on, who ended up in a soviet gulag. He made some seminal movies that I want to check out when I get back. He made some of the most amazing three-dimensional collages, paintings, photograpsh, folk art and hats (yes, hats for women in his movies). I thoroughly enjoyed this.

In the evening, my friend Michael whom I went to Khor Virap with, and I went to see the Armenian National Opera production of Arshak II by Tigran Chukhadzyan. The opera was amazing. The singing superb, the sets gorgeous, the costumes rich and the acting very good. I only dozed once and only for a few seconds - no snoring here! The opera was considerably more expensive than the ballet. The ballet was $7 and the opera was $13. I'll go broke at this rate.

So that was my exciting Wednesday. More to come.

Hajoratsyun.

Bob

Gallery: Lori Province and Yerevan

markarianlawrence — Fri, 18 May 2007 19:29:00 GMT

Sanahin and Haghpat Monasteries

I Go Deep Into the Well

markarianlawrence — Tue, 15 May 2007 01:09:00 GMT

A very interesting thing is happening with me. I hit Monday and realized that my trip was in its final week. I am very ready to be home in so many ways. I miss Kristina, our children and grandchildren so much. And I miss our friends as well. So I thought I might sort of coast through the last week, have a couple of duduk lessons, walk around a bit and get ready to come home.

However, I'm getting very energized again. I've been visiting more and traveling with some of the other guests at Anahit's apartment. There are frequently 5 or 6 other guests besides me. Yesterday, I went to the town of Ashtarak with Malta, a fellow from Germany. We had a great adventure finding a marshrutka, getting to Ashtarak, locating three churches, walking across a medieval stone bridge and having a picnic in the town square. This is another beautiful city with a deep river gorge running through it.

Last night, I had a duduk lesson. I have to tell you what a wonderful man my teacher, Gevorg Dabaghyan is. He was in a recording session yesterday that ran over. He called my cell phone several times, but I haven't been keeping it on. Who would call me? Well, Gevorg would. When he couldn't get hold of me, he left the recording session, met me at the Music Conservatory Hall and told me that we could schedule the lesson for later that night. And so we did. He is teaching me so much and I'm just wringing with sweat by the time I get done with a lesson. Luckily I'm taping the lessons or else I'd forget 90% of what he is teaching me. I had mentioned to some of my fellow guests that the restaurant next to our apartment building has authentic Armenian traditional music every night. I joined the party later and we had a wonderful dinner, great music and fine comraderie. One of the singers, Nazeli, not only remembered my name but was so appreciative that I have come in so often to hear the music.

Today, I went to Khor Virap with another pal, Michael, from Germany. I've told you how I've had a hard time with people staring. I'm really getting over it and while I notice it, I don't much care anymore. And traveling with Michael - well, he's about 7 feet tall so you can imagine the looks. But folks are just wonderful to us. While we were waiting for the marshrutka to fill, the driver bought us coffee and a military officer wrote down the times of the return marshrutkas on a napkin and everyone made sure we understood about the times and where the marshrutkas picked us up.

Khor Virap means deep well. St. Gregory the Illuminator (Krikor Lusanvorich) was tortured and imprisoned at the bottom of this well for 13 years by King Trdat III. In 301, the king suffered from some weird sickness (some legends say he sprouted a boar's head) and St. Gregory cured him. The King was so grateful that he adopted Christianity at the country's official religion making Armenia the first Christian nation. The well now has a building over the top but I went down into the well. The ladder would never pass OSHA standards although I felt really safe because the passage down was so narrow, I could wedge my back against the back wall. Kind of like rock climbing. The well is about 12 feet in diameter and doesn't look like a fun place to call home.

The day was gorgeous and we were very close to Ararat. In the picture, behind me you may see a fence. Beyond the fence about one-half mile is the Arax River. On the other side (including Ararat) is Turkey. Kind of creepy although it's such beautiful country.

After Khor Virap, Michael and I walked through a vast cemetary. Many of the stones are engraved with eerily like-like portraits of the people. I did find a Mooradian gravesite there but no Markarian or Kouzoujians. But we also only saw about a tenth of it.

Michael and I wandered back to the main road to wait for the autobus - we had a 45 minute wait. I car stopped and asked if we wanted a ride. The driver was a man named Mikhail Tsanturian and he was with his son. He ended up driving us into Yerevan (we bought extra gas for him) and we swore undying friendship and he invited us to come to his village of Lasarat in September when the grapes are harvested and wine and vinegar are made.

So right now I am very much at peace and contentment. I still want to get home to my family but the richness of Armenian life is very present in my thoughts. I still get stared at, I still struggle with the language and I am tired of traveling. But I am so glad I've stayed three weeks - it's helped me to relax, be patient and drink it all in.

So tomorrow I'll be going to a few museums, getting another duduk lesson AND Gevorg said that my new duduk will be ready. He's been making it over the span of the last 10 days. I'm very excited.

Thursday, I actually take a tour from a local company. I've resisted so far prefering the anxiety and challenge of finding the right marshrutka, the right taxi, the right getting off place, the right money etc. etc. to the predictability of a tour. But this one will get me to Sanahin and Haghpart and back in one day, provide lunch and some interpretive work. I will enjoy it.

Sirem, hajortsyun yev bari chanapar,

Bob

Gallery: Aragatsotn and Ararat Provinces

markarianlawrence — Tue, 15 May 2007 00:34:00 GMT

Day Trips

Random Thoughts and Statue/Building Tour

markarianlawrence — Sun, 13 May 2007 02:52:00 GMT

So nothing major today, just a series of small events and observations.

I went to an Orthodox Mass at Mayr Tachkr, the oldest church at Etchmiadzin. Echmiadzin the is Holy See of the Armenian Orthodox Church. The head of the church is His Holiness the Catholicos, Karenkin II. Mary Tachkr is built on top of a pagan altar. I wasn't allowed in to see it when I was here two weeks ago, but I understand that some tour groups get to see it. One theory I read is that when they built Mayr Tachkr, they left the pagan altar just in case "this Christian thing blows over."

The ceremony was beautiful. An incredible choir (one we saw in a DVD with Isabel Bayrakdarian - a Canadian Armenian Opera singer). The sound was stunning. I didn't like it that so many tourists were taking snapshots and videos of the ceremony. I thought it was incredibly rude, but no one enforced the no pictures rule (there were signs) so I guess they don't really care. For me, it was a strange juxtaposition to see people deeply involved in their faith with other people capturing the moment for the folks back home. I don't get it.

Random thought 2. - Mashrutkas. I love taking marshrutkas. They are mini-vans that hold 15 or more people. The seating is tighter than an airplane but once they are full, they just go. The buses are the cheapest way to go, but they stop and pick up people and drop people off so the trip is longer. I took a Marshrutka from Ijevan to Yerevan yesterday - about 90 miles and it cost $4. A bus would be about $1 and a taxi would be about $40. One thing I've learned about marshrutkas is that although they may have an approximate departure time (although I've never seen these times printed anywhere except the Lonely Plant - Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan - they really leave when they are full or nearly full. I had the fortunate chance to be the last passenger on the Dilijan marshrutka. I strolled up, took the last seat and off we went.

Random thought #3 - In my Eastern Armenia language CD's I learned the word "Hamatsainem" which means OK or I Agree. I have never heard this word used, not once. It has been shortened, apparently, to HA. It's not unsual to here someone talking with someone else and say Ha-Ha (pause) Ha-Ha much like the Russian DA-DA. Anyhow, I have a hard time remembering to use this because it sounds like flat or phony laughter. I'm working on it, however.

I believe that the Armenian people are extremely gregarious - that is, they hang out in groups. I see men walking, talking and eating together. Same for women. Men walk arm and arm with each other as do women. And I also see couples walking. But I rarely see a solitary man or woman - there are certainly some but they are greatly outnumbered by couples and groups. Today when I was sitting at a cafe by a pool at the Opera Square, I was just not getting a waiter to come over. And there were one or two groups who came and got tables after me. Finally, one of the owners suggested strongly to the waiter that he come over and see what I would like. After a while it dawned on me, the waiter was waiting for my friends to join me.

Random thought #4 - when I was out in the country (Sisian, Dilijan and Ijevan) there were no gas stations (or Benzene as it's called here). Out there all the vehicles except for diesel truck run on natural gas. It comes from Turkmenistan or Russia and is very much cheaper than benzene. Cars have three or four gas cylinders in their trunks.

Random thought #5 - I'm finally seeing some bicycles. Mostly they are mountain bikes and kids are riding them on the sidewalks - not in the streets. I have not seen one bike in the road. I've seen one scooter. So different than Italy. I don't know if the traffic here is more challenging or if bike riding is just not in the consciousness. On the way back from Echmiadzin, I saw a phalanx of bike riders with riding clothes and helmets on. It was like a mirage. Haven't seen anything like that at all.

Well, enough for now. It's hot and smoky in here and yes, smoke gets in my eyes. Kristina says you all are enjoying this blog and I'm very much enjoying writing it.

Sirem,

Bob

Gallery: Statue and Building Tour

markarianlawrence — Sun, 13 May 2007 02:34:00 GMT

At Opera Square

Almost Kicked by a Duck

markarianlawrence — Sat, 12 May 2007 03:17:00 GMT

Jack Datisman is Ukrainian by descent. I think he is the second generation born in the U.S. Before I left, he sent me an email with some very sound advice - I know he was thinking about my welfare and I took his words to heart. Jack first warned me that foreign countries are full of foreigners so don't be surprised when everything looks and sounds different. You get the gist of Jack's advice.

However, he did give me some very serious counsel. His Ukrainian babushka (grandmother) warned him very sternly about a Ukrainian curse that goes, "May you be kicked by a duck!" Whoa! That gives one pause for thought. Mind you this is a very serious curse. Jack waxed philosophical about whether a duck could actually kick. And what would it do? Now ostriches are a different story. I've heard that their kick is so powerful it can disembowel a person. What would a duck do? Disem-ankle you or maybe a tall duck might disem-shin you? I guess I didn't want to find out, but I had two occassions in Ijevan to hear Jack's words in my ears and feel shivers down my spine.

The first occassion was when I was in the Botanical Gardens in Ijevan. The gardens were the pride of the city at one time but the hardships of the last 20 years - earthquakes, the pull-out of the Soviet Union and the costly and bloody war against Azerbaijan have made economic recovery very difficult. The gardens have suffered from neglect although they are quite beautiful. The magnolias were blossoming as were other flowers, plum trees and other vegetation. I was at the far end of the park when I heard a very strange sound. At first it sounded like a child in distress. Of course, I started in that direction. Then the sound changed to more of a pig sound. Even though Artsun and I had just been in the wilds yesterday with the danger of feral pigs, I walked even closer. Then, amazingly, the sound changed to a duck-like squawk. Jack's warning ringing in my ears, I moved closer. Of course I moved closer, I want to die a slow death being kicked to ducks in the far corners of Dendro Park in Ijevan.

I finally got close to a puddle of water and there were three frogs. FROGS!!! making these sounds. So I am alive to tell the tale and not only is it hard to understand spoken Armenian, I also can't understand Armenian Frog.

The second occassion was much tamer. As I was walking through the village of Getahovit on my way back to Ijevan after a mountain hike, three geese took exception to my sharing the path with them. I figured that since they weren't ducks and weren't Ukrainian, I would just give them a wide berth and that worked. I'm still alive and kicking. Well, not exactly kicking but at least not being kicked.

Sirem,

Bob

Gallery: Tavush Province - Northern Armenia

markarianlawrence — Fri, 11 May 2007 01:41:00 GMT

Dilijan and Ijevan

Khorovats, Vodka and Cigs, Oh My!

markarianlawrence — Fri, 11 May 2007 01:08:00 GMT

So I am really traveling now. I made a productive decision to leave Yerevan and come to Tavush Province. This area that I'm in is so much like Switzerland must be. There are sharp valleys with houses and towns up and down both sides. Fast raging rivers and cows and pigs in town and incredible stone construction make this a pleasure to the eyes.

I caught a marshrutka to Dilijan on Wednesday. I caught a cab to Ghazar and Nune Ghazarian's guest house - Dili Villa. They are the most amazing people. Ghazar is an artist and musician and Nune runs the villa, schedules tours and is the third best cook in the world (Kristina and Mom, I'll let you two decide the order for one and two). Nune absolutely stuffed me with oval shapped round pancake sort of cakes, homemade yogurt, imam beyeldi (eggplant, tomatoes and onions stewed together), a thin-sliced eggplant lightly fried with wild garlic, yogurt cheese, spas (a yogurt soup) and blinzes. Oi vey!

Nune arranged for a driver named Albert to take me to Goshavank and Haghartsin churches. At Goshavank, I met Zarik, one of the caretakers. She took a liking to me (I think partly because I told her I was Armenian) and partly, I'm just a likeable guy. She opened up the inner church and let me go in. Then I asked her if I could play my duduk in there and she happily agreed.

Later that night, Ghazar and Nune invited me to some friends' house for "an hour." Ghazar brought his accordion and asked me to bring my duduk. Well, I'd forgotten that May 9 is Victory Day celebrating the liberation of the city of Sushan in Astrakh (Nagorno Karabagh) - but that's another story. I walked into the house to see the host grilling khorovats in an six-foot wide open fireplace, a table just groaning with food, many bottles of vodka and about six other people. Visions of my first two bouts with khorovats, vodka and cigarette smoke danced through my stomach. Well, the upshot of this was that I explained that I had stomach problems and any alcohol made me sick but I would sip on the vodka which I did all night. I made a third of a shot last for three hours. Oh yes, this was not a one hour visit! The khorovats was actually quite good - very little fat and cooked well. I figure that by default, the meat here is organic. No one could afford the ingredients that we stuff our livestock with. Plus I see animals grazing everywhere on open range and no feedlots in site. The cigarette smoke was, well, its usual self, but the house had high ceilings and that seemed to help. I felt OK the next day.

And the next day was one of the real highlights of my trip. Thought Nune, I hired a guide named Artsun (see his picture) to guide me from Parz Lich (Clear Lake) to the village of Gosh (where Goshavank is - convenient, no?). This hike is 8K or about 5 miles and a guide is an absolute must on this trek. One of the first things we did was to wade a raging river. Not as bad as it sounds, but I got a bit wet and Artsun ripped his pants a la SpongeBob. Artsun was the greatest guide. He knows all the trees, wildflowers, birds and edible plants. We picked wild garlic, wild onions and an herb called "urts" which tasted fabulous. He had a hatchet with him to trim branches out of the way and also for the feral pigs in the area - "Just in case!" But he also had a cell phone and had set up people to be ready if there was an accident or anything. No accident, just a great time. Artsun is also a poet and Ghazar has helped him to get some of his works translated in other languages. He has also hung out with William Saroyan. Just an incredible day.

Albert drove me to Ijevan last night. I had the address of a homestay from the Lonely Planet book. However after driving around and asking directions for half an hour, we found the house but no one there had ever heard of her. I was beginning to wonder what I would do, when one of the ladies, Arevik, said that she had a place in town. So somehow, out of the blue I am staying by myself in a huge three bedroom apartment with parquetted wood floors, kitchen, dining room, bathroom and living room. I don't know how this happened by it certainly was an adventure. I got back to Yerevan tomorrow. This has been one of my favorite parts of the trip.

I still get plenty of stares but am getting more used to it. Some of the kids especially in the small villages have no problem coming up to me and asking qeustions. The adults are more reserved. I spent a few hours with a Peace Corps volunteer whose name I'd gotten from another PC volunteer who stayed at Anahit's one night. Rud said not to worry too much about not getting what people say to me. He said that the local language is about 30% regional dialect, 30% Armenian and 40% Russian. In fact, when it becomes apparent to people that I'm not getting everything they say (as when I say "I'm not understanding what you're saying), they immediately ask me if I speak Russian. And I must tell them I speak even less Russian than Armenian. It was a pleasure to chat with Rud for a couple of hours and not have to think about translating my thoughts.

I took a hike up in the hills this afternoon. There is a great gorge here and I saw two eagles. I ate dinner up there - lavash, cheese, tomatoes, cucumber, the yet-to-be-named herb, pomegranite juice and paklavah. Wow, this is tough!

I am missing you all terribly and will be ready to come home in a week.

Yes dzez shad guh sirem,

Bob

Vayots Dzor Province - Sisian

markarianlawrence — Fri, 11 May 2007 00:53:00 GMT

This seems like so long ago, this will be a short article. I finally did get to Sisian about a week ago if I remember correctly. It was a long ride in a marshrutka (mini-van) and I didn't know if we'd have any stops so I didn't drink any water for hours before the trip. Luckily, we did stop at a little oasis with a restaurant. AAAHHHH!!!!

A sweet grandmotherly lady (of course she was probably my age) invited me to have some lavash, cucumber, an herb I don't know the name of yet and chicken. How sweet of her. She said, "Nestek, nestek, ker (sit, sit, eat). I shared my olives and chocolate with her and some of the others.

The minivan didn't actually stop in Sisian but went on to Goris. When I realized what was happening, I sent a message up to the driver. It was a project taken on by all 15 people in the van. The driver dropped me off at the next exit and we all waved good-bye. The very first vehicle to come by stopped for me. It was a big blue truck driven by a very polite young man named Lenik. He was so polite, he would even stop the truck so I could get a drink of water. He drove me to the Hotel Dinah where I was staying and even grabbed my backpack and carried it.

I went to Zorats Karer that evening. This is the stonehenge that is older than England's and dates to the bronze age. My pictures aren't great, but it was stunning there. Many of the rocks have holes bored in them to observe events in the sky.

The next day, I hired a driver who took me to Tatev, an incredible fortress-monastery perched on the edge of a nearly vertical gorge of the Voratan River. Again, my pictures won't do it justice. It takes a helicopter or airplane.

I did take a fantastic hike down to a ruined fortress-monastery called Andapad. It was about an hour to hike in and there was absolutely no one there but the cows and I. I played my duduk in the church. The monks cells are about 6 feet wide by 12 feet long with a little place to build a fire with a stone chimney. It must have been incredibly cold in the witner.

I left Sisian the next day. I was the only tourist in town and was actually getting a little tired of being stared at. It's just natural I know, but I was getting tired of being on the road so left for Yerevan the next day. Of course, after getting to Yerevan and being there for a day and a half, I was ready to hit the road again. See my next article about Dilijan and Sisian.

Love to all of you,

Hajortsyun,

Bob

Fashion and Culture and Food

markarianlawrence — Tue, 8 May 2007 01:05:00 GMT

My good friend, Steve Snyder, and I talked a lot about blending in before I left. We figured that I knew enough about Armenia not to dress totally out of synch, that I looked Armenia enough and that I had enough of the language to blend in. Well, not the case!

To start out with, I didn't bring enough shades of black. While there are certainly other colors here, they work from the base of black. Very typical dress for a man of my age is a black suit jacket, black pants, various color shirts and Italian-type shoes with long, squared-off toes. I can come pretty close with my pants, gray jacket and darker shirt, but my shoes are a dead give-away. When I walk down the street, I see people look at me and immediately look at my shoes. Shoes play a big part of the culture in Yerevan and especially for women. Most younger women wear spike heels all the time, including, according to a Peace Corps volunteer I met, in the winter going down icy streets. And what a variety! It is a fashion show daily. People wear lots of clothes even when it's very warm out although today was hot and I started to see some short sleeved shirts.

Ingrid and Leslie wanted to know about food. I am really hooked on lavash - a rolled out bread that looks like and is used sort of like tortillas although they are thinner and baked into sheets that are about 1 1/2 feet wide and 2 or three feet long. Sometime they are cut into smaller squares and folded. I also am addicted to tan - a liquid yogurt drink. Khatchpuri is sort of like spanakopita - thin layers of filo with cheese, mushrooms, and butter. Meat versions are also available. I've also had Ishkan trout - Ishkan means "prince" and it's named for the spots on its head that look like a crown. I've had pork khorovats (BBQ) twice and gotten sick both times. The salads made of tomatoes, cucumbers and light oil dressing are fabulous. The tomatoes here really taste like tomatoes.

That's all for now. I just got back in Yerevan from Sisian earlier today and haven't even been back to my room yet, but the internet in Sisian only had Russian or Armenian and I just couldn't do it. I am enjoying writing to you all.

Hajorutyun,

Bob

Gallery: Vayots Dzor - Southern Armenia

markarianlawrence — Tue, 8 May 2007 00:21:00 GMT

Sisian Area

Gallery: Hayastan Day 7

markarianlawrence — Fri, 4 May 2007 22:24:00 GMT

Lake Sevan

I Take a Sick Day

markarianlawrence — Fri, 4 May 2007 22:05:00 GMT

Well, I knew it would happen and I'm actually glad. I was planning on leaving for Sisian this morning but a wild and crazy night left me with a mild case of the traveler's woes.

But to start the story, I must tell you about my evening with Artur Mikoyan and his friend Vagho Vardikyan. They are both former pilots who have not been able to work in Armenia. Vagho works in Russia and Africa. Artur is the director for George Asadorian's Foundation. I had no idea how much medical eqipment and computers George and Jo are resonsible for bringing to Armenia. It is truly wonderful.

Anyhow, Artur picked me up and then we picked Vagho up. Artur said that he'd like to take me to Lake Sevan for dinner. Sorry, Kristina, but to be polite, I said "Yes." Kristina wanted for both of us to see Sevan for the first time on a future trip - I only saw a little bit of the lake! So we drove to Sevan, walked up the hill to Sevanavank (Sevan Monastery that dates from the 800's). It is located on a peninsula that used to be an island before the soviets dropped the lake 20 m. for a hydro electric project or some such thing.

We then went to a sumptuous feast of sig (a flounder), barbecued lamb (yes, I had a bite), cheese, potatoes, tomatoes, cucumber etc. Also a bottle of vodka came out. I managed to sip lightly and never really take much. There were many melancholy toasts to our wives, families, children, grandchildren, world peace and the Armenian nation. Artur wants to take me on a tour of the hospital where much of the equipment has gone.

Between the food, cigarette smoke and cool air, I wasn't feeling very well by the time we returned at 1:00 a.m. I had some stomach distress and I won't go into details, but I just slept in today.

Anahit, my landlady, was very sweet to me and gave me a bowl of chicken, rice and spinach soup that she had made. She said that it might help. Indeed it did! She is so insistant that I not do any dishes or clean up at all. I was washing my soup bowl after eating and I heard this voice from the living room saying, "Robert, you stop doing that right now!" She has ears everywhere.

I had another duduk lesson with Gevorg yesterday and this time I took a tape recorder. It has made a huge difference. I don't have to trust my memory - it is more scattered than usual today.

So, I'll try Sisian tomorrow. There are some french guys who have a car and if they go south I'll go with them, but if not, I'll take a minibus.

Again, love to you all, Tsedesutyun, Bob