care for a smoke?

A month or two ago, I can't exactly remember - time is something that escapes me here, Jon and I went for a long walk around Yeghenadzor. We happened to come across this old man and proceeded to get pleasantly drunk with him while he talked our ears off about his life. He poured us homeade vodka, 3 or 4 shots too many, and more or less forced us to drink with him. I watched him talk to a rapidly buzzed Jon while I tried to successfully focus as many pictures as possible, but only one or two came out clear (I have no idea why). We left laughing hard at ourselves and kept talking about how cool and beautiful this old man was. He had a face I briefly fell in love with, and something about his nature was familiar. It's on my list of things to do before leaving....come back to see this one.

window

I checked the weather in Armenia daily before coming, wincing that it was below 50 in April thinking this was going to be the worst decision. But the cold is like pain, you know you went through it but you can't remember exactly what it felt like because it's gone. And now the heat has come - the rattling sound of afternoon cicadas and sticky morning sweat that assure you it's hot. My bedroom window curtain was blowing from the breeze today and it just looked.....pretty. I've had a good weekend - I hope you have too.

holding on

I was walking to a friend's birthday party this evening as I passed the basketball court, where these boys were hooping it up. They had more fun posing for me than actually playing I think. Before coming to Armenia, my friend Nadia who had done Peace Corps in Panama told me that part of the experience was finding something you could hold on to - because it wasn't going to be easy. I haven't forgotten her words, they are ever true. Photography has been the thing I have gripped on to, and I have used it at times to force myself to stay engaged here. Finding photography to be more important to me now than it was before has been just one of the gifts I've been given for having held on this long.

the chickens

Her husband died years ago, and she has been helping raise her son's children and tending to the chickens and garden since. Her family says she has made pets out of the chickens, talks to them and spends more time than is really necessary feeding and what not. Widows and widowers don't remarry in this country, what was once was once. Anyone with a heart can put this story together. I've always liked barns and farm animals, hope to have my own someday too, and so I didn't mind helping her out this evening getting the 37 chickens back in their coop. And I don't think she minded the attention either, as she told me all about them and let me take her photo.

greens

I spend probably an abnormal amount of time at my neighbor Hranush's house. She's always outside doing something with her hands - and I like coming over just to see what's up. Like I said though, a lot. I took these today under her house soaking up the last of the day's light while she toiled about planting things. The green braided strands of grass come from the fields, and once dried are good eating in the winter time. I didn't like them at all in the beginning. As an American kid who once endured awful frozen spinach with dinners caught slipping them into my glass of milk hoping it would go unseen instead of eaten, I had bad memories of cooked greens. But the Armenians in their magical ways make the stuff taste great. Nostalgia has set in deep for me now. I wish there were a pleasant way around not having to think about, and actually, leaving soon.

river wild

It's been raining for forever now. I don't remember the last day of real sunshine - where it wasn't a half hour tease of warmth followed by the clouds taking over. The river near my house is raging. I love walking back there, and the last time I did I met these 10 year old boys who wanted to come with. We had a blast together - throwing rocks in the water to test the depth, jumping from one part to the next, soaking our shoes and pants. I never can get enough of water play time.

mother & daughter

This is my friend Arusyik, and her daughter Angelina. I'm at their house a lot, particularly in their blue kitchen watching the window light on faces drinking tea or eating something. I've taken many pictures of this family - they are my best Armenian friends. I was immediately hooked on their home environment the first few times and have had to come back since: the phone always ringing, someone usually crying, the door being opened and closed a thousand times, food laying out ready for someone else to graze on, people coming in and out and sporatic small parties over a half bottle of wine because it's Tuesday. It's the kind of home I hope to have someday - open to anyone, a little messy, full of the good things.

going home

lkl

I just got home from the last conference, thank God, of my Peace Corps service. It was mostly a load of paperwork to be completed and information about life after this: jobs, readjusting to American life, etc. I recorded a few of my fellow volunteers who haven't been home in 2 years on what they were most looking forward to about it. Home is a concept, it is more than a permanent address or even a country of familiarity - and unlike some volunteers who are anxious as hell to get Home, I feel like I will be leaving Home to find and create another one.

cotton candy

I was looking back at my vacation pictures from Georgia and Turkey, feeling very spring loaded to be somewhere else, somewhere new. In the Peace Corps, I think it is important to travel out of country every so often, as often as you can actually, because these small developing countries have a way of blocking your vision to what else exists. Of course memory is still strong, but even being in a big international airport after 7 or 8 months of just being in Armenia is a little overwhelming. This picture is from Batumi, Georgia - a small beach town on the Black Sea coast that I really liked. I think this was the last roll of it for the day, and I watched these kids' nervous faces hoping this lady could spin more. Cotton candy days aren't too far down the road...

a little of both

This woman is a math teacher at the school I work at, and she also shares my birthday. So she's immediately cool with me. She's lives close to the small corner store that once was a small soviet style refugee trailer that served someone's living needs but is now my favorite place to pick up eggs, bread, or more phone credit. The owner is a lush, is always seen to have a few shots of something near by and willing to share with anyone he can persuade to drink with him at 1:30 in the afternoon. And it's the only place I feel comfortable having a little debt at. He'll just write my name down in the small paper notebook that is filled with years of pages of people who haven't paid, and in a day or two I'll give him the 2 bucks. I don't know why I even ask, I think it makes me feel more like a local maybe. Last night I was down there around dusk and took this picture. I like seeing pictures with 2 kinds of different light in them, it has always grabbed my interest. I know it's on the dark side a little, so put on your glasses and forgive.

play your part

A photo I took when we were working on our women's day exhibit that I think is an accurate representation of the standard gender roles in Armenia. It's a system that works well, is protected, and actually sought after - as getting married and having children is the biggest priority in life here. Even children in the schools, when asked questions about gender roles, agree with the kind of norms that embraced American society 50 or more years ago. It is old as time, these kinds of expectations and limitations, and the pattern doesn't break easily (or should be broken at all) here.

50mm love

I hardly ever take pictures of things like apples and trees, but with this film camera I got as a gift last year (a 50mm Canon AV-1 old school), it's like putting on a pair of Life Is Beyond Beautiful pair of sunglasses and feeling really inspired by how it looks through the lens. I have been shooting old Russian slide film I got from a friend, plain 200 speed Kodak, here and there rolls of black and white from other volunteers who have lost their spark on taking pictures - it's been a lot of fun, and I while it's a little expensive to keep the developing and printing process up with my Peace Corps salary, I think I might let my digital camera take a break for awhile.

lunch and tourists

A group of 4 Irishmen came to eat lunch at my old host family's house this afternoon as part of a home-stay tourist program run by a hostel in Yerevan. I came over around noon to help with the table setting and taste testing, and all 3 of my host mother's kids showed up to see what was going down as well. In typical Armenian style, the tour bus was about an hour late so we sat around looking at the table, and I took some pictures and later taught one of her sons what the term "that sucks" means while waiting for the giant Irishmen to come. They seemed to like the food as the gulfed it down without speaking. They asked me how long I had been in Vayk and looked completely astonished, half sympathetic, when I said almost 2 years. One of the coolest things about doing Peace Corps is not being a tourist, making friends and a life somewhere far from where you thought you could.

untitled

I took this photo last night while waiting to eat dinner with a family whose son is leaving for Russia to work for a few months. Although this girl was staring at the music video on TV, she had a curious yet shy demeanor that reminded me of myself at that age. Later towards the end of the night, I had to talk her into taking a photo with my camera despite the small thrill I could see on her face. I told her as I left, "you're going to be a great little photographer some day." She didn't say anything, looked at me with simple eyes and grinned.

naps and worms

I have been getting emails recently from new Peace Corps Armenia volunteers that will be coming in June. Their questions are understandable; I remember feeling like I was jumping off a cliff and not sure whether there was going to be water below. And so I have been asked things like "is there reliable electricity, how do I live, how cold does it get, how much Armenian I knew before hand" and so on. The answers to these questions really depends on where you are here, because the country varies from region to region. But I can tell you that of course it will be cold, sometimes there is no water or electricity, by some stroke of magic luck you will learn to speak this language, definitely you will want to quit more than once - but it is all worthwhile. It is a rich, esoteric experience few people will know about.

The audio is conversations between my friend Jon and I about the gastro-intestinal friends you will meet and 4 o'clock standard nap time.

So, if any new A-18's are reading/listening to this please know that we are excited for you and encourage the bold step you are about to make.

Preface of audio: first half - sitting on my roof eating awful dried peaches.