Leaving Armenia

So I've resolved to update this blog once a month. It is fitting considering "Amis" means month in Armenian. I wrote this essay a long time ago but I want to repost it here since I will be leaving Armenia for the second time in a few days. My next post will reflect on this most recent trip but for now... here's a reflection on my first experience:

As I walked through London Heathrow Airport to catch my connecting flight from Yerevan to Chicago, I couldn’t help but think of how drastically different this experience of leaving Armenia was to entering Armenia. I thought back to four months before when I took a taxi on my own to the Prague airport, had a traumatizing and lonely airport experience and finally boarded a plane at 11p.m. I sat down amidst the largest group of Armenians I’d ever been exposed to in my life. I began asking people around me if they were Armenian, a silly question I know—considering the flight I was on, but it was an instinct I’d had my whole life as I sought out connections to the people with whom I shared my identity. On that flight, had I not been subdued down into my seat by those brutally-honest, no-BS Armenian glares, I probably would have sought out Armenians who shared my understanding of Armenian history: genocide, diaspora, tragedy, Anatolia, etc. When I arrived in Armenia I desperately clung to a conversation with a diasporan from L.A. and hung onto every last word of English I could get until I found myself languageless and alone at the Yerevan terminal.

The flight home couldn’t have been more different. I arrived at Zvarnots with a host of Armenian mothers who’d adopted me during my time in Armenia. First, my host-sister/mother, Liana—my rock. Living with her couldn’t have been more perfect… an inspiring woman, wise, hard-working, who loved her country and yet dealt daily with the pain that it inflicted upon its young, ambitious citizens. Ruzanna, whom I had worked for at Manana Center, but who also took up the job of caring for my like my own mother, who is her dear friend and truly treated me as her daughter. Her hugs, her food and her commitment to the children of Armenia made me want to stay forever. Margarita, my dear friend Elen’s mother who cared for me as her daughter was off studying in London. A woman with whom I could share few words due to our languages, and yet spoke everything through her smile and energy. And my friends Armine, who had so generously taken my mother and I on a wonderful adventure in Lori and shared her home, family and art with us. I left Armenia gazing back at this sea of love that I longed to stay with. I knew then that I’d have to return.

I felt Armenia being pulled briskly away from me like a comforter in the chilly morning as I left my first flight and walked towards the generic mix of people traveling from London to Chicago. I heard English all around me and I couldn’t hear people calling each other “jan” and it was in walking through the airport that my departure hit me and I broke down. As I was walking towards my connecting gate I noticed a man wearing a deep 5- o’clock-shadow and pointy shoes and I said to myself: “I don’t care how you do it, you are sitting next to that man on the flight home.” I caught up with him and began to speak Armenian with him. He was so thrilled to have someone going to Chicago to speak Armenian with. When we boarded the plane we switched around seats so we could just talk with each other. I refused to speak anything but Armenian with him and even busted out my dictionary (in vain) to communicate everything that I loved about Armenia. He was a former army officer who had left Armenia and was working for an Armenian rug company in Chicago. He seemed lonely in Chicago, but I was so thrilled to know he was going to be there.

Less than a week after I returned from Armenia I had my (Armenian side) family Christmas. That day I prepared a whole presentation of photos of Armenia to show my family. I thought about how I wanted to present Armenia and I figured they’d all be so curious that I’d just be able to roll with anything they wanted to know. I’d got all of my cousins presents from Vernissage and I was determined for them to all understand exactly where they came from. But as the night went on, I realized that only a year before, I hadn’t really ever thought about Armenia “the country” that exists today. Though my family was glad to hear that I had had such a great experience, I didn’t get the impression that any of them were so desperate to share it with me and plan their big trips to Armenia. All of my little cousins picked up on the word “ha” and said it throughout the rest of the night, but that was the only word. The running joke became that all their presents from Armenia were made from the “tears of Armenian orphans” as I tried to explain that every single gift I got them was hand-made and so special. They loved their gifts. I hear the boy cousins still wear their leather “I <3 Armenia” bracelets and are very proud of them. I don’t mean to make them sound uncaring… they loved their gifts and they were so proud that I’d learned Armenian, but I just forgot how much the Armenia that I’d come to love so much is not a priority for so many Armenian descendents today. Wonderfully, my brother developed an obsession with Armenia while I was there and can’t wait to join me for my next trip.

Now that I’ve explained to you where I was coming from and where I came back to before and after my experience with Birthright Armenia, I can tell you about my time in Hayastan.

I had a bit of a crash-landing in Armenia. My first day was a little stressful. I had just ended a long relationship back home. I couldn’t say “Hello” in Armenian. I wasn’t sure what I was doing. I was homesick (for the first time in my life). I thought I’d landed in the Soviet Block and I was stuck here for four months. I’m an adventurer, but I just didn’t feel quite up to it in my first couple of hours.

I began to relax as I joined Liana on walks around Kentron in the evenings, went out to the countryside with Birthright Armenia, met some English speakers, saw some great concerts at smoky little clubs in Saryan. On one of my first nights, Liana’s friend asked me “Do you feel more Armenian here?” and it didn’t take long for me to respond “No.” I actually felt that being in Armenia pointed out how glaringly American I was. The way I talked, thought, looked, smiled, and particularly, I was self-conscious of how little I knew about Armenia. This will no doubt horrify some of you but I barely knew what Karabakh was before I came to Armenia.

Things picked up though. When I started my language classes it was a sigh of relief. The ability to communicate with people is my top priority wherever I go and I relished in learning “my language”. I’d studied many languages throughout my life but I can’t tell you how blissful I was when I learned to write the Armenian alphabet. When I’m sitting in class back at NYU now I will write Armenian letters and words and sometimes the entire alphabet in the margins of my notes. I really think its one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen and been able to do.

Everything changed again when I went on the Karabakh trip with Birthright Armenia. On our way there we stopped at Tatev and my breath was taken away. I sat in the small rooms looking out over the ravine and wished for the group to accidentally leave me there forever. When we went out on the ridge to the small lookout I felt like I’d found the most beautiful place in the world.

Karabakh shook me. In a profound and, I think, very positive way. Growing up in the country where war in engaged at a distance and from an intensely anti-war community, Karabakh made me reevaluate my understanding of war. It didn’t make me like war, but it made me think twice about the things that people will fight for… will die for. As I stood in the trenches, where my future-friend Asqanaz stood for the past two years of his military service, and looked through the cracks at the Azeri soldiers on the other side, I felt strange and foreign feelings of patriotism, defense, and pride. Later I would have very interesting conversations with my teenage students about war, peace, service and more. I can’t express how deeply conflicted and confused the whole situation made me, but what I can say it that it certainly gave me a new perspective.

Birthright Armenia encourages us to find our own place in Armenia. A few weeks after I arrived I was pulled up onstage at a small bar on Pushkin called Calumet to play what would turn into a 3-hour long jam full of musicians, jams, instruments, and voices. That night I met and played with a young man who would become my best friend in Armenia, Sasha. This was the start of my 3 month long love-affair with the music scene of Yerevan. I couldn’t stop playing, writing, performing. It seemed like every night I met another unbelievably talented musician and heard new and exciting music. This part of my experience in Armenia, though incredibly sleep-depriving, made me sink deep into Armenia.

The more time I spent with local musicians, the more attached I became to Armenia. While Birthright had provided a wonderful source of friends and collaborators for me, I found myself connecting deeply with people who’d grown up and lived in Armenia their whole lives. It was hard too though. It never left my mind nor the minds of my friends, students and coworkers, that I could and would be leaving Armenia eventually. At the end of my trip I was actually in complete denial of leaving because I’d felt so much that Armenia had become a home for me. And for me, home is a place that you can leave often, but always return to. This idea comforts me as I sink back into my life in America.

I loved to walk around Yerevan. It was common for me to walk between Pushkin Saryan khatchmeruk, Haraparak, Matenadaran, Vernissage, and Lover’s Park numerous times a day. Sometimes while I’m walking around the streets of New York I close my eyes and imagine my walk to work in Yerevan. It actually still baffles me that my time there, for now, is in the past. It’s hard for anyone to understand this feeling that hasn’t just left a place that profoundly changed their life.

Whether is was Karabagh, Lori, Sevan, Dilijan, or even Calumet… every place I went I thought “Please just leave me here forever.” Though I know America is my home, it is the country that raised me and that has held all my hopes and dreams for so long, I am happy to say that Armenia has made its way into my heart and will never leave. Though I am back here in America now, back on a speedy-schedule, trying to finish college, trying to plan (futilely) my life, Armenia is never far from my mind. Really, it is my friends in Armenia… who are never far from my mind and as I communicate with them through the blessings of modern technology, it is hard for me to find the words to describe how much I miss them, but I hope they know how much I love them, and how much I await my next opportunity to come to Armenia and sink in deeper.

Volunteering in Armenia-- A reflection

What makes someone want to volunteer? This was a question I asked myself a lot during my time in Armenia. Not so much because I had just taken four months off of school to come to Armenia to volunteer, but more because I spent a good deal of my time there trying to encourage others that volunteering is a desirable thing to occupy your time with.

When I first arrived in Armenia I was told I was going to be volunteering at two locations: Manana Youth Education Center and Naregatsi Art Institute. I didn’t know much about what I would be doing beyond teaching an English class to an unknown number of students of an unknown age. The first couple of weeks, I honestly felt like I didn’t know what I was doing there. Here I was, a 20-year-old student who has never taught a formal class before, never written an official grant proposal and certainly never learned how to understand a budget. I’d volunteered a lot during my life: built houses, done food drives, flower-pot fundraisers and more, but I’d always had a pretty firm idea of what I was doing, and more often than not, someone to tell me exactly what to do.

This kind of volunteering was different. I soon realized that I was going to have full control over the creation of an hour long English class twice a week with anywhere between 8-20 kids from ages 9-16 with English abilities ranging from “hello” to Jane Eyre. I learned quickly that the grants that I was applying for were serious and heavily depended on my ability to complete them correctly. More than anything, I learned that when working in a new place, you have to be flexible and sometimes spend a lot of time listening and trying to understand before trying to change anything.

This kind of volunteering is not the kind of hammer-and-nail, soup-and-bread kind of volunteering that I was used to. It required a serious commitment of my mind and my energy. When I first realized this, I really intimidated me and I kept wishing that someone would just give me a manual and tell me exactly what to do with my students and how to best help my co-workers. These anxieties would come and go throughout my time in Armenia, but by the end when I was reflecting on my time, I felt that I’d left something good at each of my volunteer sites and also received so much from each as well, even if I hadn’t noticed along the way.

After my first class at Manana, I no longer feared teaching a class. I didn’t know how to cope with students of such diverse ages and capabilities, and I didn’t really know where to start. I decided to start with what I was good at: music. Something I quickly learned about Armenia, which seems to be true in much of the rest of world, is that the Beatles were the most important thing that happened—ever. I can’t tell you how many of my friends in Armenia answered the question “How did you learn English?” with “The Beatles”. My friend Elen, who had taught English at Manana before and was an avid Beatles fan, suggested I start there. My first lesson I had about 10 students. I cut up the lines from “With a little help from my friends” and handed each a line from the song. Then I had them each read their line out loud. Then I sang the whole song for them and had them line up in order of when they heard their line sung. Then we sang the whole song together. When we finished I looked around and they all had huge grins on their faces. After that, I did a similar exercise with the Shel Silverstein poem “The Long-Haired Boy” except I made them dramatically act out their lines.

With both Manana and Naregatsi I was asked to think of ways to help the organization, whether by finding grants online, or rethinking structures or fundraising efforts or organizing events that could help bring more people to the organization. This part was much harder for me. Interacting with children was easy, but writing official statements about an organization you barely knew, trying to understand how their budget works, and trying to understand all the dynamics of an organization was really difficult for me. Something that I learned about grants in the process of writing them is that you need a lot of planning. You have to try to guess how to present your organization perfectly to a foundation or government program to fit their specific goals, and even if your idea is brilliant, it may not be taken seriously if that idea is not already supported by a bunch of other organizations. It was a true challenge and sometimes I felt like I and my colleagues put a lot of work into a total shot-in-the-dark. Still, I learned so much from it, and despite the fact that the organization maybe didn’t receive the grant, I think they learned a lot from the process. For example, the process of writing a grant and fundraising made us have lengthy and in-depth conversations about how to develop the organizations, how to talk about what we do, what materials we were missing in order to present a complete, legitimate budget, where we could do better, how we could expand the organization, what grand project we would plan if we received this grant, etc. In this capacity I felt that I was very useful. As someone who’d grown up in the U.S., in non-profit arts organizations, in a far away place where free-market capitalism and its simultaneous philanthropic sector has existed for centuries, I had a very fresh perspective on how to operate in a non-profit arts world.

When I felt that I needed more time using the skills I felt most comfortable with (music and interacting with youth) I went to AVC and I asked if there was any way that I could do more of that. I was soon introduced to Warm Hearth, a home for adults with disabilities. I went to Warm Hearth for about 6 weeks and would play music and sing and dance with the residents there. They were so kind and welcoming to me and definitely the most appreciative when I managed to learn a new Armenian song. They were eager to stand up and perform for me as soon as I was too tired to perform for them. Soon after starting at Warm Hearth, I was introduced to a school for young autistic children. My first time there I sat and played about 2 hours of music (mostly my own, the Beatles, and any other folk tune I could come up with, sometimes just improvising). I looked around the room at the adults, sure that they were bored and unsure whether the kids were enjoying it at all. Sometimes the children would approach me and I decided to just sort of let them have at my guitar. After all, it was probably a pretty foreign object to most of them. I would say “Uzum ek navakel?” and one of them would come up. Sometimes they would just place their hand on mine while I was strumming, some would detune my guitar, some would bang on the wood, and one even took a liking to the taste of the strings. Still, I let them explore it as an object and it thrilled them. I watched their eyes grow in fascination as they realized that they could control the sound coming out of the guitar. From what I could tell, it really empowered them to be able to control sound.

During my last week in Armenia, I started to really feel like I didn’t want to leave. I organized an event for singer-songwriters at Naregatsi with seven songwriters from Armenia and the diaspora. The evening packed the place with lots of young faces who had seldom been to Naregatsi, a place that celebrates and preserves Armenian traditional art as well as encouraging new forms of art and music in the new generations. My students at Manana organized a party for me and we sang and danced together. They gave me a photo album with each of their pictures and a little note in Armenian so I could practice Armenian at home. I e-mailed them all on Armenian Christmas and got lots of excited, beautiful emails back which I responded to with glee. I can’t get enough of their energy and optimism.

I’m realizing now that I completely forgot the answer the question that I began this whole reflection with: what makes people want to volunteer? This was an important question for me because one of my main goals in Armenia was to convince my students that volunteering could be a thrilling experience. On December 5, fifteen of my students joined me at the cascade for International Volunteer Day. I gave them all trash bags and gloves and we spent the next 5 hours running around Yerevan picking up trash. I was really nervous that I was going to have to stop a lot and organize some fun game so they wouldn’t get tired, or bored, or upset or disappointed… but I didn’t. They had so much fun. They were running from courtyard to courtyard, climbing up trees to pick out trash, laughing and skipping all day (I know it sounds cheesy but its true!) When I finally made them take a break they were restless and wanted to get back out there. At the end of the day, they were all so happy and cheerful. One student even asked me if he could take some trash-bags with him on his way home to pick up trash. One asked if we could do this every day. I was so thrilled. It was clear to me that they had easily picked up the volunteering bug. It’s not really a bug or a foreign, “Western” concept. It’s the simple idea of doing something good for people and the world we live it. Though it was truly difficult to leave Armenia, and I honestly can’t wait to get back, I left with a smile on my face knowing that I’d helped a few people in Armenia realize what a joy it is to do something for someone else, whether it be picking up their trash, singing them a song, or just flashing them a smile.

a land of potential

I apologize for the long time since my last post. I've been experiencing some pretty amazing things and also facing some tough mental transformations. I've decided that I can't post my inner thoughts on the internet because they are mine and I'm still working them out and when you come to a country as wonderful, strange, and conflicting as Armenia, you need to think about what you've seen before you speak.

Regardless, I'd like to list some of the highlights of the past few weeks.

I went to Artsakh, known as the republic of Nagorno-Karabagh, which is an Armenian country sort of seeparate sort of connected to Armenia. Its an absolutely breath taking place and going there really challenged a lot of the ideas that I have about war, peace, patriotism, happiness, etc. If you get the chance, you should google the Armenian-Azeri war over the region and just learn a little about what is going on. We visited a memorial museum, a wonderful rehabilitation clinic, ganzasar church, hiked to a waterfall and much more.

On the way out to Artsakh we stopped at Tatev where there is an ancient monastery. In order to get to the monastery you have to drive about an hour down into a gorge and then back up on the other side. It was one of the most beautiful places I've ever been and no one should leave Armenia without seeing it. There are some beautiful photos on my facebook page from Tatev.

Yesterday I went to the first ever TEDx Yerevan event. It was really exciting and incredibly organized. Some of the talks were great and overall I think it was a great step for Armenia. I hope after this event future speakers will really embrace the "ideas worth spreading concept" and begin to dream big for Armenia. A great success i would say though.

I've been spending a lot of time at a great place called Calumet which is owned by two Beirutsi Armenians. Its a really laid back place and they always play good music. One night, I had an Irish-Armenian music jam with one of the owners, who agrees with me that there is a strong emotional, musical and possibly genetic connection between the Irish and the Armenians (he lived in Ireland for 6 months and had a plethora of beautiful Armenian and irish folk instruments). The next night I attended Sonya Varoujian's show there-- she's a great spyurkahay Armenian from New York who plays folk music. She has a beautiful voice and some great songs in both Armenian and English. Afterwards, I went up on stage and ended up jamming and playing (originals and every cover I could come up with) for about 3 hours. It was wonderful and really made me feel comfortable and connected to this wonderful place.

A great sensation I've been having here in Armenia is that it is like a child's play house. It is miniature sized and therefore you feel like you can really feel its contours and make a difference. Everything here feels accomplishable and yet impossible. I can sit for hours in a cafe and talk with both diasporans and locals about all the great things that need to be done in Armenia. Sometimes its just a fantasy and sometimes everything seems so achievable. Its nice to be in a place where everything has not been tried. There is so much room for potential.

I'm going to leave it there for now and with one thought that really affected me and I hope affects anyone out there who would ever think of coming to Armenia-- I met a jazz musician from New york at a club the other night. He has no familial ties to Armenia, is not Armenian, and kinda of came here on a whim a few years back... and ended up staying for 2.5 years. He said there is just something special and inspiring about Armenia and its true. Despite the difficulty, frustration and "stuckness" that can sometimes overwhelm you here (and I think has, understandably,  taken a toll on some of its long-time residents) there is also an overwhelming aura of creativity and potential that permeates the air here. I hope I can maintain this energy and pay it forward in my time here.

All the best,

Simajan

Photo at Tatev by Gohar

These are a few of my favorite things...

Last night, my mind was absolutely blown away by a local singer who sounds like a mix between Jeff Buckley and Stevie Wonder. Actually probably the most incredible male singer I’ve ever seen live. He’s the lead singer of a band called “Dorians”. At the same event I was lucky enough to see the phenomenal band “Katuner” which is comprised of some of the most accomplished and ground-breaking musicians in Armenia.

They love music here. They love the blues. They love art. Its really great.

My favorite desert is essentially a piecrust rolled into a small scone shape with sugar on it. On the outside it is browned and crunchy, on the inside it is like soft, uncooked piecrust. Yummmmm.

I’ve learned to cut bread holding it up in the air and pulling the knife through.

Time is flexible here… while that occasionally makes me jumpy because of what I’m used to, I thin kit is good for me to learn to take things as they come.

There is a lot of love here, especially family love. Parents absolutely adore their children. Couples are very intimate and romantic. Its nice to be in a culture where there is a very great appreciation for love.

You can eat fresh grapes that hang off the vines in front of basically every apartment building.

Yerevan is basically a small circle and you can basically walk anywhere within the center of the city. Also, there a few great places to go and all the great people always seem to end up in the same place at the same time.

Their keys look like beautiful old works of art (see picture).

I eat tan (a mixture of plain yogurt, water and salt) very often and it is very good for your stomach.

There is almost a brutal code of honesty here when it comes to sharing your opinion. Very little BS. Disorienting at first, but you come to appreciate it, and hey… maybe I’ll hone my tastes while I’m here.

Now that I’ve told you all the good things I’m going to tell you a little story about my nemesis…

As I snooze the morning hours away—work rarely begins here before 10AM—I lie dreaming about Hayastan, home, friends, family, and other peaceful beautiful things. It is only 6:30AM and long before I should have to wake up. After all, the days are long and steamy here and I really do need my rest. Just as I am reaching the most wonderful part of my dream I am wrenched back to reality by a “zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz” in my ear. I swat it away and desperately try to climb back to that dream but no… now its landed on my calf and if you know anything about how sensitive you are to touch in the morning when you just want to be left alone… you will understand how irritating it is. For the next hour I battle this ugly, half-centimeter-sized wretch who has without fail, terrorized me every morning since I’ve arrived. On my leg, my foot, my forehead, my lips!! He does not discriminate and seems to take joy in landing on all my hyper-sensitive spots. He usually wakes me in time to see the sunrise reflecting off the distant mountains and while I occasionally consider forgiving him for his behavior due to the wonderful gift of sunrise, I immediately take it back one I realize that he has just risen me in time to be conscious of how hot my bed will be for the next 3 hours of my sleep. Three hours later, defeated, and not as serene as I would have hoped, I rise from bed, stretch my shoulders and wander into the kitchen where low-and-behold he is sitting there right in the breakfast nook waiting for me. He jumps and does a dance on my watermelon, turn to give me a wink goodbye, then flies off towards the mountains. I eat my breakfast as a defeated Goliath but I know one day… I will get my revenge.

Listen to Dorian's here. I really love "Es Kulam" which is in Western Armenian (or old Armenian... its kind of like Armenia's version of Shakespearean English. THis is the language that diaspora Armenians speak predominantly. Its really beautiful). Their rock stuff is great too though. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iwlJLh2UVWw&NR=1

Also, here is Katuner (the video is not great quality but I wanted to put up a more complete song)...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nK8E-a7CQHQ&feature=related

Much Love, 

Sima

Simajan

Its just over week since my landing in Yerevan and I have almost exclusively good things to say. From the moment my host-sister, Liana, arrived home from work on Friday, I have been in a constant state of exploration and discovery. Liana is not only exposing me to the Armenian language, introducing me to her friends, taking me to great local music clubs and feeding me amazing food, she is also helping me get accustomed to the rhythm of life in Armenia.

Every evening we have taken a walk around the city. Considering the busy life I came from, it is really wonderful to find that I can carve time for a 2-3 hour walk or rest or chat every evening. Though I know this leisure will not last for much of my stay, its existence lets me know that I have successfully transported myself to a different place, both physically and mentally. We often stroll to the Cascade which is a long set of steps that flows from a mountain top pointing to the heart of the city. The strip is called North Avenue because the architect who designed the whole city, made it so that the cascade channels a northern wind and bring cool air into the city. Its quite amazing. We've also strolled to the singing fountains in Republic Square where they blast music (American and Armenian-- I was greeted with Aretha Franklin and Cotton Eyed Joe) for 3 hours every night of the summer and have fountain/light shows to go with the music. Its amazing how many people crowd the streets every night just to enjoy fresh air together. Also, my room has a wonderful view of Ararat. For those of you who are not familiar with Armenia... Ararat is a national symbol and a huuuuuuge absolutely awe-inspiring mountain that is almost visible from everywhere in Yerevan. Unfortunately it is over the border in Turkey so many Armenians are never able to go to Ararat even though it is one of their most beloved national symbols (Armenians basically first settled around Ararat around... 5000 years ago). Anyways, enjoy the pictures taken from my bedroom window below. Though I have to tell you, none of them capture its beauty and as usual, my dinky camera can't show the beautiful colors that shine on the snowy top at sunset. However, you'll get a small idea of how great it is. Ararat is one of those things that it is not overrated, it is just as great as all people say it is.

I've begun my Armenian language lessons and I'm stumbling through trying to quickly learn as much conversation enablers as possible while also trying to properly understand the language. Having studies arabic for the past year its interesting comparing the two languages which both are drastically different from Western languages, do not share many word origins, and have different alphabets. As of now, Armenian seems to be much more difficult because it has all these sounds that really trip up your tongue (kh, gh, ts, yeh, tyun, etc.). Who knows though, in a month I could be totally accustomed to it so I'm hoping it will get easier.

I've done some fun activities with Birthright (BR) Armenian Volunteer Corps (AVC) people. On Thursday we went to go see the National Folk Dance ensemble. It was really exciting and as usual I sit up in the balcony the whole time thinking... why don't people wear dance costumes all the time?? Oh... I will never learn. Last night we went to Sevan's house (the director of BR) to play mafia, meet BR people past and present and eat food. Sevan has a beautiful house and a wonderful family so it was nice to be in that environment. Today a group of us participated in a sort of treasure hunt challenge that got us to the outer reaches of Yerevan. We were split up into two teams and given clues on little pieces of paper which took us to: the French Embassy, the Bangladeshi neighborhood of Yerevan (a poorer area), a mercedes dealership (??), and a famous warrior statue (you'll have to excuse my lack of specifics... I'm still having a lot of trouble pronouncing/remembering Armenian names and places). It was a fun way to stretch out my understanding of Yerevan.

In the evening we ended up at the house of an Armenian-Diasporan who has come to Armenia and works now as a wine consultant. He talked to us about the Armenian wine industry and of course, we got to enjoy the fruits of some of the companies that he works for. Walking into his dining room we were presented with a table full of fruit, dates, delicious Armenian sweets and of course, lots of wine. I swear I was Persephone walking into Hades' lair. Anyways, it was great. Relaxing. Yes I'm still in tourist mode. I promise soon I will be talking more about the work I'm doing and the challenges I'm facing. But I really am trying to be positive about every experience I have here in Armenia. I will write more about how I feel about the country, their ideas, my perceptions, their practices and questions I have about Armenia later. I want to give myself the opportunity to run through a mill of emotions before I start reflecting on the "character" or "essence" of Armenia. I don't know if I'll ever feel that I've necessarily earned this right, but what I know is it seems too soon to give my "impressions" of Armenia as of right now.

I am Simajan now. Jan is what everyone adds to the name of someone of endearment so whenever I come home to "Hello simajan how are you!?". If my count is correct I think 7 people have referred to me as Simajan and that is a good number for me.

Please enjoy my pictures and of course I've forgotten my ipod so I can't remember the playlists I've made but I can tell you that I had a Beatles session the other night which was great after reading that Rolling Stones released their list of the 10 best Beatles songs of all time. Here was the list in case any of you feel like joining me for a brief spell of Beatlemania:

10. While my guitar gently weeps
9. Come together
8. Let it be
7. Hey Jude
6. Something
5. In my life
4. Yesterday
3. Strawberry Fields
2. I want to hold your hand
1. A Day in the life

A pretty good list though while I was scrolling through my ipod to find all of them I kept wanting to stop at others. However, my only addition is "I'll follow the sun". I really love this song right now. Its so pretty, simple and perfect.

Enjoy the music and pictures.

All my love,
Simajan

Greeting from Yerevan

Hello friends and family,

I am writing from an outdoor café (Santa Fe Café) in Yerevan, Armenia. Though I have much to write about this amazing country and the two days that I have spent here, I want to begin my travelogue from the beginning of my journey -- the Czech Republic. Maybe even before that I will write a little about why I am taking this trip...

I am a student of cultural diplomacy. For me this title reflects an interest in the ways that people can communicate through music, arts and culture in general in order to create cross-cultural communication. In all the places that I have travelled to in the world (which I hope to reflect upon in later posts) my most profound experiences and deepest connections have been a result of music. Music is able to cross lingual, cultural, and economic barriers in ways that other forms of communications simply cannot.

During my previous semester at NYU I realized (as I studies ethnography, politics, music, and language) that I had no time to absorb what I was learning and not enough experience with which I could guide and apply my studies. There has been a growing feeling in me for months and maybe even years that I need to understand my own identity and place in the world before I go out and begin to study others. After thinking it over and deciding that I did not appreciate the falling-off-a-building feeling I was getting as I rushed through my studies, young twenties, and life in general in New York, I told my family I wanted to take off for a year.

My plan was to first study the "other" place in the world that I most often identified myself with-- Armenia. For my whole life I have been "the Armenian" in my community. I loved to bring up my Armenianness when everyone was discussing their heritage. I loved to raise my hand in history class and deliver the story of the Armenian Genocide and how my family escaped. I loved feeling different. I loved writing grade school reports. I loved eating laghmajun, paklava, and dolmas. However, I've begun to feel that my understanding of being Armenian and most certainly Armenia as a country was very superficial and historical. I will leave my description of me/Armenia there and now start to describe my journey-- beginning with the Czech Reuplib (my 3.5 day stopover on the way to Armenia --- beats Moscow airport for 11 hours by a longshot...)

I arrived in Prague with slightly too much luggage to lug around-- however the ambition in me (or more likely cheapness and fear) drove me to the bus stand rather than the taxi pickup area. I took a bus to a train to a train and arrived in Poricany (45 minutes to the east of Prague) with no cell phone, heavy bags, and English. Having had know way to contact my host I walked to the office there where a very nice Czech Man who spoke no English decided he would drive me around town to try and find the house. I kept saying "CHURCH" to him and he would talk in full Czech phrases back to me. Nevertheless, after about 20 minutes I arrived at the beautiful home of Sarka and Roman. Two beautiful artists who own the monastary (house/teaching place) behind the only church in town. Sarka is an artist and theatre director in Prague. She has been invited to travel around the world to speak about theater and is a very intelligent and wonderful woman. Roman is a painter and teaches painting to teenagers in Prague. Both are very generous and happy and currently trying to turn their house in a Creative Collective where artists can come from around the world to practice their art, but first and foremost they hope to connect with the children in their village and provide them a place to cultivate their creativity. I arrived during a BEAUTIFUL sunset. I was tied up being fed a wonderful Czech meal (chicken, cabbagey sort of dish and potatoes) to photograph the area during sunset but I caught a pretty good time later on during the week. See photos hopefully attached. I stayed there one night and then went to Prague. Here is prague:

I was a tourist
I spent time with Maggie and Micah
I went to Cross Club which was very cool but very spread out
Prague Zoo is best Zoo
I love trdleniks
I gained weight

Now back to Poricany. A beautiful, magical, creative place. I returned on Thursday midday to relax in their extensive garden and have a wonderful conversation about artists, alternative living and general happiness around the world. Sarka showed me these books by this author Robert Florida who wrote a book called The Rise of the Creative Class and a few other books about artists and how they live. I didn't get to read them but I reeeeeaaaaalllllly want to and suggest some of you look into the books as well. They look awesome.

While we were talking Sarka prepared an amazing meal consisting of wild mushrooms (she and Roman had spent 3 hours walking through the forest that morning collecting hundreds of beautiful mushrooms), tomatoes, potaotes, chicked, ham, zucchini, onions, blue cheese, cream, butter, etc. It was so yummy and we ate and drank wine out in her garden. Her adorable Dog, Hakyo I believe is his name, cuddled up next to me and tried to get some food. It is hard to describe when you meet someone who inspires you and who seems to be doing amazing things with their life and work. All I can say is Sarka and Roman have built themselves a beautiful life in Poricany/Prague and I believe that their home will be bursting with creativity and happiness for a long time.

I forgot to bring my ipod but I wanted to include I list of songs that I have been listening to. So please feel free to plug into grooveshark.com if you would like to hear what I hear.

1. Lakeside - BLK JKS
2. Ruby - David Rawlings Machine
3. Let it Die - Feist
4. Terakaft
5. I was Wrong - Spanakopita ft. Jake Saner

Argh i can't remember the rest but I'll add it to the next post.

Love,
Sima