There's a lot of snow to contend with on Yerevan's streets these days. These photos taken by my wife around our neighborhood attest to the comments you can read from people on Facebook. My wife is always complaining that there is "so much snow," which although delivers inconvenience with its onslaught, it also provides for beautiful landscapes. I am not in Armenia at the moment, but having seen snow in Yerevan I can imagine how difficult it is for people to get around. In New England a common sight to see in the winter are large trucks outfitted with gigantic plows on the front to push the snow curbside. You also have miniature plows for the sidewalks so kids can walk to school in the morning. In Yerevan, snow removal was a problem in the past. However, a couple of months ago after a snow flurry the sidewalks were impressively cleaned promptly by the municipality, and sand was generously sprinkled on the sidewalks. Here in the Boston area, the temperature is relatively mild and the ground is snow-free -- it's like early spring here. But I can't say I'm pining for the winter wonderland of Armenia (although I do miss Tsaghkadzor).

Photos by Anush

Labels: Nature, Thoughts and Musings

Here's a great video we shot last night.  Never heard Areg chuckle so loud. Take a look:


You can see the original "HD widescreen" version on YouTube.

Labels: Armenian babies, Armenian Dogs, Personal Experiences, Video

Wishing everyone a happy, healthy and successful New Year!

Labels: Armenian babies

Areg is the only thing I really care about these days. He perks me up with the beaming smile he shows me every morning just after opening his eyes, and we enjoy the entire day together. All we seem to do is laugh and have fun. I suppose that's all we should be doing.










Photos by Gohar

Labels: Armenian babies, Personal Experiences, Photography

As some of you know I’ve been living in Armenia steadily since 2004. In that time, a lot of things have changed related to society at large, politics, economy and the landscape (Yerevan has changed dramatically whereas the regions haven’t). There are some pet peeves, however, that are enduring. Here’s a few:

Hearing “aper.” The term “aper,” which is distilled from “akhbar,” a word for brother derived from the Arabic that has been used by Armenians from the Middle East, is used to address seemingly anyone under the age of 60 (once gray hairs set in, a man is addressed by someone far younger as “hopar,” which is slang for “uncle”). Its usage is epidemic. When a man has to get another’s attention, say on the sidewalk, he would yell, usually at the top of his smoked-out lungs, “Aper!” repeatedly until the person he wishes to speak with finally turns around (naturally, everyone turns to look at the guy yelling, thinking he’s talking to them). Guys call each other aper, used in the context of “dude,” although another term, “ara,” which is first and foremost a popular male name, is used interchangeably (perhaps it would be more accurate to delineate ara as “yo” in American English). The grating usage of aper is not only irritating, it has changed the way people call one another, from a formal approach to animalistic, as if apes were trying to stand out in the jungle. The Armenian equivalents of “sir” or even “mister” don’t even seem to be used anymore (although if you’re lucky you might be addressed as “my respectable one,” usually by a traffic cop). I must hear aper being either shouted or spoken at least a hundred times a day, and half the time I don’t realize it’s spoken. You can hear it when a male, young or middle-aged, is talking on his cell phone, or when he’s chatting with his buddies on the sidewalk. You hear it when you obtain a good or service, at the grocery store or the gas station. Honestly, if I know the person and he calls me aper, I am not offended since it’s a casual form of address between acquaintances. Nevertheless, this blunt method of stating presence at inappropriate moments and places has long gotten out of control, and the more frequently aper is used, the more people are sounding idiotic or disrespectful to each other. Even women call strangers aper. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the Catholicos of All Armenians addresses his business associates or archbishops the same way.

Noise pollution. All clanking, crashing, grinding, banging, sawing, and growling associated with construction and transportation have pushed me to the point where, at least for the time being, I hardly leave my apartment if I don’t have to go outdoors. Yerevan is noisier than ever--I actually don’t remember it being so loud as it is now--and much of that cacophony is coming from cars and trucks with faulty exhaust systems (or a performance muffler that magnifies the sound 10 times) and police sirens installed in place of car horns. Unfortunately my apartment is situated at an intersection with a traffic light, so when one motorist is late by a split second to engage in first gear when the light turns green, everyone waiting behind him lets him have it. Usually they hold their hand down on the horn for no less than three long seconds (some people hit the horn in short bursts, like their playing the dhol.

Mafiosos and wanna-bes. The cool thing is for men and adolescents to look and act as though their part of a gang associated with a mafia family. Daily life on the corner downstairs resembles a scene from the beginning of the film “Goodfellas,” when Henry Hill is describing what life was like in the neighborhood, hanging out with Paulie’s crew, waiting for a job to do. The sad thing is that criminal activity does exist in my neighborhood, and apparently it has for years according to what I’ve heard. Last year from my balcony I personally saw someone, a regular who hangs out in the area, deal drugs out of his car window to one of the kids that lives around here. It seemed like a scene from another movie about inner-city life. In fact, use of narcotics by the youth in this part of town is not uncommon. Around the corner in front of the Amsterdam Café a police detail is always there. The cops, usually red berets, are either trying to protect some big shot hanging out inside or busting someone for one reason or another. The beer bellies, sharkskin suits, dark designer sunglasses, slim cigarettes, black Japanese SUVs, Bentleys, BMWs, blinding white pimped-out Nivas and all other gangster-associated material nonsense is everywhere. They continually shout, show off, and annoy. There’s no escape. You can even see the same things in some of the villages just outside Yerevan.

I really don’t know what the solutions are to these societal problems; I can only identify them. Some reading this might ask: Isn’t simply leaving Armenia an option? For foreigners like myself, sure it is. But what should people born and raised here who share the same concerns do? Continue to emigrate? Or keep putting up?

In memory of Andy Rooney.

Labels: Personal Experiences, Social and Cultural, Thoughts and Musings

After a two month hiatus in the US me, Anush and baby arrived safe and sound last night. Areg slept most of the time on the flights and never had any major crying fits throughout the journey, even during our six hour layover at Amsterdam Schiphol airport.

I'm still a bit groggy from the jetlag and felt it while walking Chi Chi in a sort of vaguely trancelike state last night, but I noticed two pluses worth mentioning. One is the new terminal at Zvartnots airport, which is quite spacious and impressive. It just opened a couple of days ago according to the taxi driver who took us home, a far cry from the awkward, cramped original arrival hall still in use up to five years ago. Chi Chi along with my sis-in-law and Levon were there to greet us (Chi Chi peed all over the new glossy stone tile floor). Another is the newly paved sidewalks on Hanrabedutyan Street, where we live. The rippled, crevice-ridden pavement has finally been smoothed out, which means there's no chance of tripping for klutzes like myself.

Here's some recent photos of baby.

Labels: Armenian babies, Personal Experiences