riding

I was inside the marshutney bus, waiting for it to fill up to it's never exceeding maximum of 45 people when I caught the eye of this young girl. Then I wedged myself in tightly for the ride to come. Getting a good seat is a smart idea, a seat all to it's own, that you don't have to compromise your leg, lap, or whole body for. As much as I whine, I have come to appreciate how unbothered everyone is while on them. The dependency is high, people have next to no other way to travel within their means, but even if a bus is oozing bodies there is always room for one more. Someone will point to the remaining 4% left of a seat and say "here, right here, sit down."

28 N and 3 E

Armenia hinges on the gates that open the East and distinguish the West at those geographical points. I often try to make my mind up on what I think, but I never can. It has been heavily politically influenced over time, trying to please all neighbors while protecting the culture and history of its people. The language dates back to the age of dirt and stars, and so does the charm and beauty...like this face above.

sunday light

The view from a friend's window apartment that looked far more beautiful at the time than this picture can convey, and my good friend "Jon M." at Sunday's dusk.

lavash

Lavash is the traditional Armenian staple. It is almost like a tortilla, but not. It can be a little jaw intensive to eat after it has been sitting out for awhile, like days. But I've eaten my share of it and find the history interesting. It is holy bread, therefore cannot be thrown out. And it is as old as time, consisting of only flour, salt, and water. I often come to this one room lavash factory to warm myself, and I eventually eat a few free slabs while the women are nice enough to let me take their pictures. It was an attempt to do a mini-essay, I hope you enjoy.

in your face

Every Tuesday and Thursday I run an "English club" with a group of 7th grade kids. They are more or less like wild animals on crack. They beg me to take them down to the stadium where I let them run around and be 7th grade kids, instead of teaching them how to say "Hello, how are you" in the classroom. I remember my 7th grade year as being the year of pantsing people and spitting really far. Awful. It has to be the hardest age to work with, I feel great amounts of pity to all 7th grade teachers. Today though, I brought a few of my own clothes, hats, scarfs, and belts and we played the 'put on clothes and run' relay game. It went over with many laughs and two rounds.

jason eskenazi

I was not able to copy one of his images, but Jason Eskenazi is worth your time. He has taken some beautiful and interesting photographs of the the Soviet Union and other Soviet countries before and after the collapse. If you have some time, visit the NPR link that has an 11 image gallery and a small interview with him. On my way out of the Peace Corps I think I am going to take the long way home, through some of these places myself.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=96957662

http://jasoneskenazi.com/

stumblings

Just when I think I've got the whole town of Vayk licked, scouted, and all discovered, I will stumble across something unusual. Since I am no longer able to run around the soccer stadium with cows and chickens in solitude due to the cold, I am using an old gym. While inside I heard small voices and chairs screeching coming from upstairs. I found a chess room full of kids and a chess instructor too. I learned they have matches and lessons 3-4 times a week up there, and while I did a few wind sprints on the court below that took me back to being in high school basketball, I thought about how retarded it is that I never really learned how to play and that some 6 year old could probably whoop me.

untitled

Passing moments, passing the time. The most exciting thing about taking pictures (in my opinion) is getting a great looking moment in your camera. Its like a little treasure, that you made and that you can put your name on, stick on the fridge and stare at. I would like to say thank you to the people who have been kind and encouraging with my photos, pushing me forward. Like it is said here, "Apres!"

november days

A few shots of home life. I woke up this morning to find the tree in the front yard struck barren of its leaves and little Moni-dog looking chilled and gloomy at the front door. I always try to smuggle her inside at night for a few minutes but it never fails, everyone else prefers to have her outside. Poor poor Moni-jan, you don't have a prayer for an indoor existence.

For the past 3 days my town has not had any gas. We have been taking bucket baths and cooking our food with tiny electric coils. I took this second shot while in the kitchen chatting with Arpine, waiting for my oatmeal to cook, and hoping she wouldn't mind my obstructive camera in her face.

Aside from photos, I do actually work. I don't like to write about my daily life on this blog, who wants to read about anyone's day in day out stuff. Its a gift to be this free, and to give what you can. My newest project ideas are to host a breast cancer walk for women in the spring, provide some basic outdoor education to the youth here; compass reading, hiking, fire-building, river crossing, first aid, etc., and to work on a few teacher training classes this winter. But taking pictures is by far the most fun!

6 months

After 6 months, this country feels like an old worn in car. I know how it works, how it smells, and what I have to accept. It has brought about some new thoughts and cultural awareness that I don't think I have the talent for articulating well. All that I can say at this point is that I wish everyone the experience to not only travel to far places, but to stay long enough so that your hands become callused from the grip of hanging there awhile.

cups of good fortune

Coffee and vodka, vodka and coffee. Each drink is followed by either a toast or a fortune reading. After the coffee is drank, you turn the cup over and let the sludge run down the sides. From the patterns in the sludge comes your fortune. My fortune has been read so many times I've lost track of what is supposed to happen to me. And if anyone sees your vodka glass empty they will gladly refill you whether you want more or not. "Paige-jan, eat, drink, and eat some more!"

malishka village

Most everyone I know well, knows I grew up in Blanco, TX. A small town that still only has one stop light. In any other country, the size of Blanco would be considered a village. I am certain I grew up as if I lived in one. My best friend Jessie Haas, at age 5, had the one thing my family didn't. Chickens. I would go over to her house just for the pleasure of walking in the coop and scoping for the laid eggs. I've always felt more comfortable in a smaller place, with people who own land and animals, and appreciate this way. Sure, I'm a Texan, and you can make fun of this all day long. But home is where the heart is, and I'm sure I'll never grow too big to enjoy a small place, like Malishka Armenia. (The images above are all from the village.)

recent

A hodge podge of images recently. I attended the dance recital the kids put on, front row and center cheering, it was the first live entertainment I've seen since I came 5 months ago. I've also been riding in some icy buses that leak the warmth and drive us all past the rugged abandoned scenery. I would like to take more pictures inside these "marshutneys" but as soon as I take the camera out of my bag I can feel 100 eyeballs all over me. And that would prompt me to explain myself in a language I can hardly speak. Camera Courage, I need to find more of it.

trimming it up

In a few years, the eldest folks here in Armenia will be beautiful memories of a country that has seen change run swiftly through. I'm privileged to witness their characters, and enjoy watching how much respect they receive. This is my host mother's father, Papik. Grandfather he is, and his still enjoyment of having his hair cut, was what made me take about 35 pictures of him.

teaching is...

This is one of my assignments I've given the students here. Its a start, lame as it might look. But I like to drag them up to the front with me to answer bizarre scenarios where they have to think on their feet and be creative. Why did you come to the disco dressed like a man? I saw you driving on the wrong side of the road with your face painted blue, what were you doing? I heard you were standing on your head eating bananas and shouting at people in front of the school, explain this. Anything, I'll take anything they say.... as long as its imaginative. And that is the challenge, they have never been asked to be creative. I feel like a loony up there, especially when I notice their confused faces laughing at me, but I'm hoping it will bring about something valuable. Teaching is tough, and I'm giving it my all....trial by fire.