all grown up

14 going on 15. An age that drives most parents crazy, I think I was guilty of the same. I talked my parents into letting me date a boy they said I couldn't - and these girls are just coming in to the realm of all that. My neighbor's daughter, Narine, feels more comfortable behind a pair of sunglasses or her own hand, but at the same time is really interested in her own image. I took these today to illustrate that time in a girls life of becoming a woman, and also just to take some for them to have. I know these girls well, they are always gossiping in the street texting on their cell phones and knocking on my door - so it wasn't particularly hard to get them in the frame. They're so grown up.

camera broken

Kids are fun to photograph, they love the camera. But they desperately want to try to take a photo with it, all by themselves, like little adults. I learned a good lesson today - don't let them. My lens already a little broken from my own mistake is now hardly hanging on the body of my camera as it was dropped out of the hands of a little girl today. Ay kez ban, at least I have a trip to the States coming up soon. Repair? I wonder how much $$ I am looking at.

kghstoop continued

It's always nice when other people take pictures of you, for you. I didn't have very many of myself here until Emily came along. Apres akchik, all photos are courtesy of my pal Emily Haas. These are a little added perspective from the trip we made to Mt. Kghstoop. This morning I woke up to a body that has never been so sore, ever. I'm still walking slow and funny....

mt. kghstoop

Can't pronounce that mountain's name? Take a knife and jam it in your throat and you'll come out saying it right. It's the rocky peak in the distance in the top picture. We almost conquered the reigning mountain at 3,200 and something meters - but it won out in the end. A small group of us started at 7:30 in the morning and climbed about 7,000 ft for 7 hours and reached this jaw dropping mountain village where we camped out for the night in a shepherd's concrete floor shack with intentions to finish the last 2 hours in the morning. But we all slept awful and decided we were satisfied with how close we had gotten to the mountain and descended. We came across this old lady who loaned us her bbq skewers, she had one hell of a dialect that I could hardly understand and told us when we asked how many people live up here, 2 - her and her grandson. Incredible. And so so beautiful, the alpine view, the isolation, the storms, and the clouds that would intermittenly show us the peak of Kghstoop. Check out Emily's blog also, I know she took some great shots of this trip.

sheep jam

I scanned this photo in, that's why it looks a little.....ancient. I've passed a lot of these traffic jams of livestock in the last 2 years, and have always wanted to get a picture. They walk these animals not on small roads, but on the main highways (if you could call them that) through the country. The semi trucks coming from Iran and all kinds of varying degrees of cars must wait and honk to get through this domestic force of a sight. No one thinks it's cool, the drivers are annoyed they have to slow down and weave through animal traffic as are the passengers who make these "ugh"and "aiygh" noises. So this is it, and this particular time there must have been about 4 or 5 hundred sheep on the road. Even the people who scanned this photo in for me asked me why I took this picture. And then they laugh when I tell them how interesting I think it is.

afternoon hitch hiking

Emily and I hitch hiked back home today and we got lucky and bounced around 4 different rides within a short amount of time. This man was driving from one village to the next and offered us his back seat - the car smelled of fresh bread as he was taking it to be sold. It was a good moment, and so I had to take a photo. Thanks to Emily for looking like a Russian doll, we got rides no problem.

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...