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
