One week in

Eine Woche später…

I’m officially one week into my program with Birthright Armenia and the Armenian Volunteer Corps.  I have to say, I couldn’t have been more pleased with the way my flights turned out. I got awesome seats on both, and my luggage *gasp* even made it to Yerevan with me! I didn’t really have any expectations of the lifestyle, mentality, or language so landing in Zvartnots was quite literally a wake-up call. Rapid fire Eastern Armenian at the visa-checkpoint was surprising and intimidating. I began to notice the differences between Armenians, diasporan Armenians, and the occasional tourist. 

Let me begin by saying that it will be hard to organize my thoughts about this first week; whether it be chronologically or emotionally. I’ll do my best, but I know random memories will pop up in between my normal rhetoric. I can see Mt. Ararat from the apartment window. Epic.

My host family was waiting for me on the fourth floor of their apartment in the district of Ajapnyak. I was in a zombie like state, after having traveled for about 24 hours with a few hours of sleep in between. My room had a pleasant breeze coming through, and to my surprise, a piano. The piano has always been a great coping mechanism for stress and anxiety. I learned that my host mom was a former piano teacher, so she was thrilled when I sat to play Mozart’s “Rondo alla Turca” and Chopin’s “Minute Waltz”. Mornings have been different. I am a huge advocate of breakfast, however, it isn’t my largest meal of the day! My host mom would prepare sausages, eggs, bread, fruit, and cheese -  and for my adjusting stomach, just seeing all of it was intimidating. I eventually settled with my comfort ‘frühstück’ of yogurt, bread, and nutella. It’s weird. The habits I developed in Dortmund are creeping into my everyday lifestyle in Yerevan. More to come, natürlich. 

I must devote an entire paragraph to the marshrutkas, also known as minibuses. Yerevan’s public transport is unusual. The minibus system is quite extensive, however somewhat disorganized. With over 100 different routes, it is quite a challenge to figure out what goes where and at which time. The buses are designed to hold approximately 12 passengers seated, but usually there are up to 20 people inside of them. Luckily I’m short enough that I don’t have to bend over if I’m stuck standing up. I know my dad, who is 6’4’’ would have a really hard time riding around in one of these!  One the one hand, they are mega cheap at 100dr (about 25 cent) - on the other hand, they are smelly and essentially rolling metal death traps. 

So time for some oddities and thoughts I’ve collected about Yerevan, the food, and everything in general. 

  

•   50 year old woman at the grocery store wearing a t-shirt saying “Kiss me, I’m pregnant"
• Eating pasta for breakfast.     
• The marshrutka etiquette doesn’t compare to the DC metro…obviously. Apparently it’s not a thing to shower in the morning before getting on a crowded bus.
•  It doesn’t matter where I am, I will end up smelling like cigarette smoke by the end of the day
•  People are extremely nice and helpful when it comes to getting lost, at which I am an expert.
• Any genuine effort to speak Armenian will be rewarded with a confused smile and enthusiastic response.
• People like to stare.
•  The mentioning of Pokemon or videogames (my favorite things!) is also met with confusion.

It has been interesting switching my though processes from German-English, to English-German, to English-Armenian. When I have a hard time responding to a difficult question with vocabulary I’m not familiar with, German just comes out. Ich weiss nicht – es ist einfach so! Die Leute hier sagen das ich “come to life” wenn ich deutsch spreche. Ich grinze sogar jetzt nur weil ich auf deutsch schreibe. Ich würde mich freuen wenn ich etwas mit deutsch machen kann….mal sehn. Und an alle meine Dortmunder…ich vermisse euch und den BVB!