single mom

I met Knarick last summer when I moved in with my second host family. She is one of their relatives, and I was really happy to meet her then because she spoke English. She teaches English in a village nearby and raises her two young children all by herself. Her husband left almost 8 years ago, to Russia, and never came back. But she still claims to be married. The social pressures for women to marry are strong, and once you are - you are. She's not alone in this regard, I've met many women in the same boat. I hate that it's that way for them, but Armenia is a traditional place with strict rules about marriage and divorce. I took these pictures yesterday at her house, when I came along to help bring her a load of new furniture. We ended up staying all afternoon, cooked a chicken, ate dinner - the whole 9 yards.

come close

I would have liked to get closer to this little girl, but as it was she was pretty clued in on what I was doing, trying to take her picture. But as it is, I like her gesture. Alone, and looking or deciding where to go next. I've always struggled getting close, and at times go back and forth with myself about doing that. Maybe that's why I like taking pictures. It is difficult and complicated, but fun also. It makes me think about what I am making other people feel, as I try not to think about it because I know it looks beautiful. Shortly after I took this picture, the girl ran at high speed out of my frame and I watched as she crashed into her Dad's leg and grabbed hold of his pants to hide her face from mine.

narine the great

This is my dear friend Narine. Every summer she works for Peace Corps teaching new Americans how to speak Armenian. She taught me how to last summer, and from time to time I see her in Yerevan and stay at her apartment with her family. She has a son who is deaf and she taught him to read lips in both English and Armenian - and boy is he good at it! She's an amazing woman, and I ran into her at the Swearing In ceremony last week to welcome the new group of volunteers who have finished their training. It's weird to be the "old" ones, but it feels good to be helping the "new" ones out with their start here.

finished

All the Green Camps I volunteered myself for this summer, are finished. I don't know how many times I sang Boom Chica Boom - like a monkey, like a chicken, like a soldier, like a pirate, like a crazy bus driver - but it went down really well and the kids had a great time. I think it's really important to demonstrate to the Armenian youth that being silly is OK. That thinking creatively is more important than just being right. I've seen the inside of the schools here, and they can be scary. It's a system of dominance, fear, and embarrassment that only praises children who can memorize things quickly. I believe in these camps. I think they educate and inspire. And that is something to place some value in.

i said a boom chica boom

Green Camp #1 is going good. The kids, despite having no hot water or indoor plumbing, are having a great time! We took them on a 2 hour hike today through the forest, came upon a beautiful mountain stream and had a huge water fight. They couldn't believe I was willing to get my shoes wet, but after a few moments we were all pretty soaked. It's not America, where camps often resemble something like a dream land, but we do sing "Boom Chica Boom" every morning and every night and have matching t-shirts to show off when it's all said and done.

stranger in a strange place

Taken in a small village, Luskert, where I spent a few days training a group of very bright young Armenian kids who will be going to live in America for a year, just how America will be. I came across this little girl one evening who had apparently never seen anyone as strange looking as me. I was that stranger in a strange place.

apricots and gas

Pumping gas in Armenia is a cultural affair. I've watched the process at least fifty times but still don't know why it takes 20-30 minutes to fuel up a tiny worn out Russian hoopty. But it does. And no one is allowed to sit in the car or bus while filling up, instead everyone mumbles and kicks the dirt outside while complaining about the weather either being too cold or too hot. Occasionally there will be car like this one, that is incredibly picture worthy. One with a notable color and strapped down with a ton of weight going for the long haul. Our bus left about thirty minutes after this car did and we passed it on the road within the first five minutes. The old man was trucking apricots all the way down to Iran. I hope he made it.

toot!

The Armenian word for "mulberry" is toot. I like saying it and hearing it. It makes me grin inside. And the fruit is everywhere - dripping from the trees. Yesterday while I was tutoring little Angelina's dad, we went outside in the street for a toot break. We scoured the tree branches I could reach for as many toot as we could eat.

campers

I have a bunch of kid pictures from Armenia now because the kids are the light of this experience. They're pretty much the only people who you can make laugh and they're also the ones who are open to differences, even as curious as they are about you. The Armenian children are fun and I've enjoyed teaching, playing, and being at their level in the schools and out of the schools. From time to time they'll come knock at my door to come see what I'm up to, take a long look around my house and all the things I have inside, and marvel at the fact that I live alone. I will be working in Peace Corps Armenia's annual Green Camps this entire month of July helping teach young children about the environment. There is nothing they love more than to watch you act like a kid yourself.

fisherboy

Hands of a son of a fisherman. I think he wanted me to reach in and take one or two, with his big smile. A lucky boy....living on the sea.

istanbul turkey

My destination was Istanbul and after a week of traveling by bus (bus trips gone insane, bus) and train I am here. I dont know how the locals stay so pious with western tourists tromping all over the place in their revealing summer clothes but they seem to quite beautifully. I leave in a day.....back to Armenia, my small corner of home.

sinop turkey

This small peninsular town off the Black Sea coast is where I want to live for the rest of my days. It juts off into the sea, trailed by rolling countryside and full of nice people and happy stray dogs.

It has been rainy here, and while I was walking around I stumbled upon an outdoor fish market that had crabs for sale. I stupidly gestured to ask if there was a restuarant anywhere where I could eat them. They told me there was using their own gestures. When I found the place I was told by the waiter that they in fact did not have any. But there was an old man inside eating and he told me I could buy some from that market I was just at, bring them back to him, and he would cook them for me (he spoke English). He actually decided to walk there with me, bought them for me, and then once they were cooked invited me to eat them on his boat with him. So I did. It was my own ´old man and the sea´ .....he told me all about his career as a fisherman, his travels, his family. Now 83 years old, he just kicks around this town jovially being kind to strangers like me. That is him at the top, 35 years ago. King of the sea.

trabzon turkey

there are lots of people and great food in trabzon turkey. i am headed down to the coast right now to check out the carnival rides by the water. swinging boats and ferris wheels. it feels great to be in this country.

georgia

I'm in Batumi, Georgia for the day and the night....and the Black Sea is wonderful. It is hard not to compare Armenia and Georgia, but for their proximity to each other, size, and history, the cultures are remarkably different. The train ride to Tbilisi, and the bus ride to Batumi were both memorable experiences. I didn't think we would get to Batumi alive last night....our driver drove 5 hours straight, like a maniac. Passing 5 cars at a time, even the police. If it wasn't for the little bottle of apple juice and vodka I mixed for myself, I might have cried. And the train....lingering odors of sweat and urine, mean border patrol officers that practically kicked us to wake us up at 4 am, but beautiful sunsets and sunrises on both occassions. I just wanted to post a few pictures from these first few days...

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.