Sunday, May 3, 2009
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.