Tuesday, May 26, 2009

the baller

There are about 6 kids that live across and next door to me. I am usually attacked in the evenings, held hostage to play with them. This particular day there was a contest to see who could bounce the ball on their foot the longest. It wasn't me, I could only manage 5 times. But this girl kicked it up 51 times. We were all amazed....51 times.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

tatik gabweet ov

Trying to get the scarf just right, for the perfect picture. I liked how this looked instead.


I walked down to the school this morning to catch the graduation ceremony. There were these little girls that appeared to be responsible for displaying balloons. In the morning light, with their perfect white dresses and flashy balloons I couldn't resist taking their picture. They weren't having it though, gave no shadow of a smile. But the ceremony went on, and I clapped and cheered for the kids who I have worked with over this past year feeling the speed of time in myself.

Sunday, May 17, 2009


Running to the water.....breathing in sunshine. Tuni Palooza, Lake Sevan, Armeniastan.

Friday, May 15, 2009


My neighbor and her daughter, taken in my garden. They recently informed me that there will be snakes in my garden this summer as apparently there are every year. Big, ugly, dangerous ones. But they only live in my garden, not in theirs. Best news I've heard in a long time.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

here and there

Nothing photographically special or creative.....just a moment of happiness to be here rather than any other "there."

Saturday, May 9, 2009

a message

A new group of volunteers are coming at the end of this month, and we are all pretty anxious. I just wanted to tell them this.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

day trip

I took a trip today to a tiny village about an hour off the main road with my neighbor, Hranush, by taxi so we could pick up bread. A $10 taxi ride for bread, which is the cheapest thing you can buy here. But I couldn't refuse a trip to a village that far off the road. Hranush was practically jumping up and down by the time we got out of the car, showing me the house she was born in and saying hello to all her old friends. It was a dry and cold place far up the mountain road. In general, people don't travel too often here, and anyplace that a public bus doesn't go gets even less traffic. The tiny cemetary in the village made me think about the reality of place and time. That there really are people who spend their whole lives living in remote villages like Bartsruni.