Dvin is home to an Assyrian community as is Arzni, which has the largest population of Assyrians in Armenia. But for some reason the town cannot be found on maps, which imprinted a question mark on my brain that I chose to ignore. It was natural that they would have a church to visit since they are also Apostolic Christians, and to locate it we had to speak to about six people, since no one could decide on which street we should turn on. The first woman we spoke to told us to turn right at the intersection where a drinking water fountain could be easily seen (she started to describe to me what a water fountain was for some reason). We realized while looking for the street that several corners had water fountains on them, so that didn’t help very much. A young guy in his 20s loitering in front of a convenience store with several others of different ages told us to drive up 5 blocks in the opposite direction and take a left, but there was no church. So we found a sort of path that was drivable and started to head down it not very long before a typical portly Armenian granny with gold-capped teeth and wild hair came into sight. She told us that the church was just behind us, and mentioned that there was another church in Dvin that was recently constructed. We actually saw the church in the distance on the way to Dvin but we couldn’t make out exactly where it was. The church we had just been directed to, which had a placard affixed to the wall reading that it was an Assyrian Catholic Apostolic church, whatever that was supposed to mean, was built in the late 1800s but was recently restored. The door was closed unfortunately and no one came by with the key for us to enter as is what usually happens when you go to a locked church in a village, although it is apparently working with regular services.
We were off to find the Armenian church which we began to believe was actually some sort of mirage. From a distance the architecture seemed very interesting but we couldn’t actually make out whether it would be worth visiting it, plus we weren’t sure if it was the new church we were told about or an ancient church that had fallen by the wayside as a tourist attraction located either in or nearby Dvin. So we backtracked along the road we drove on, constantly looking over our shoulders but no luck. After driving at least 5 kilometers I turned the car around in the opposite direction to have another look. Sure enough, after a couple of kilometers something resembling a church perched on a hill reappeared, but it seemed somewhat inaccessible and it didn’t appear to be located in Dvin, but somewhere west of it. We had the bright idea of making a left turn off the main road that seemed partially paved but would probably lead us somewhere near the vicinity of the church. Before long we were driving along dirt roads that weaved through peach orchards. We were surrounded by peach trees and couldn’t see a damn thing other than the dusty, dilapidated road riddled with axle-snapping ditches and branches to the left and right. Once in a while a gap would appear in between some trees but all we could see were those in the orchard a few hundred meters further away. We must have driven at least 40 minutes though down these roads in a zigzag fashion until we finally hit asphalt, then instantly realized we made a complete full circle emerging onto the road we had turned from. After one or two more snafus that lead us nowhere special, at least far from our intended destination, we decided to head back for the main artery linking Dvin to the old road leading to Ardashat and then onwards to Ararat. Suddenly the dome of the church came into partial view through the trees, and judging by sight it must have been only 500 meters or so away. More determined than ever I headed once again towards Dvin, having finally been convinced that the church was there all along. The problem was that we had been searching on the west side of the town when we should have checked out the east side, where I finally determined (or rather optimistically guessed) it was. Luckily enough, the first right turn we chose lead to the church. It was built only seven years ago and was rather small compared to others scattered across the country. The architecture seemed to resemble that of Noravank which was another 80 kilometers or so south of where we were, but on a much smaller scale. The interior was ordinary with white walls and tiny, mysterious rooms closed by wooden doors and ocher crosses painted on them, characteristic of Armenian churches you can visit in diasporan communities. It was built by one of Armenia’s big businessmen—perhaps someone considered to be an “oligarch” since we found one recently carved stone cross bearing the name of the most notorious of them.
After our three-minute tour I located the outhouse and while I was lifting the hook that held the rickety wooden door shut a wasp came out from nowhere and stung my right middle finger. I barely saw the thing at all but he left an excruciating mark indicating his fleeting presence. We stomped off towards the car utterly disappointed, with me nursing my finger, and promptly lit up two small cigars which we were able to smoke completely before we arrived at the nearest grocery store to buy chocolate-covered ice cream bars.
Labels: Personal Experiences, Thoughts and Musings
I have been complaining privately to friends about the idiocy surrounding the motive to replace the fountains in the middle of tourist season, especially when they were repaired a few years ago. The Republic Square fountains were famous, especially for their "singing" effect, as by some kind of magic the jets would react in the pressure applied to the water accordingly to the tempos and trebles of the music played through speakers affixed to poles on both sides of the pool. It has always been a major crowd-drawing attraction not just to foreigners but to everyone living in this country, whether residents of Yerevan or people passing through. So I was irate that some decision was made at Yerevan City Hall to start work on the fountains in May of all times. The work should not have taken more than 30 days. But each time I walked past the fountain area I would see a maximum of two people roaming around there, which proved to me at least that there didn't seem a great urgency to finish whatever the hell it was that they were doing. Hamlet at the time told me that the work would be completed in September as he heard on the TV.
So this evening's show proved that for once the authorities actually lived up to their word regarding the completion of an announced construction project. I walked around the square to the far side standing in front of the "Post Office building" as I call it to have a more panoramic view. There are about three rows of nozzles that spurt water under tremendously high pressure, from what I saw. The rear-most row has probably 8-10 jets spaced about 5 feet or so from each other. The two front rows had nozzles spread farther apart, but one cluster of jets was situated on both the left and right sides as before with the water ascending and descending along with the music. On the far-most left and right sides were super nozzles spraying water in terrifically high arches towards the center of the pool.
The singing fountains as they have always been known were put to the test with fancy lighting and epic-sounding music. When I arrived there were some national songs being played with the lights on the water creating a flowing, shimmering Armenian flag. Then a 15-minute long bizarre medley of songs by Aznavour began. I say bizarre because there were several obscure songs incorporated into it, some of which only those that could ever manage to collect his near 100 recordings released during the last 50 years would recognize. I have the majority of his recordings on both compact disc and LP, considering myself an Aznavour Aficionado, and I had never heard some of the songs. That was followed by more French music, probably due to the "Arménie Mon Amie" sentiment that has been invoked by France in recent years. I approached the fountains to get a closer look before I was off to another destination.
Now I am a traditionalist, and I hate change when it is not necessary even in the slightest. The fountains as they were before were fantastic; they always amazed me, and it was always a pleasure day or night to visit the square, which is my favorite place in all of Yerevan anyway. There was nothing wrong with the fountains, they did not need to be replaced or revamped or whatever, but the "out with the old, in with the new" mentality cannot be stopped anywhere in this city unfortunately. So I was irate when they dismantled the fountains, I didn't want the classic image and inspiration I absorbed from them to disappear.
The fountains I saw this evening were by all means nothing like the Soviet-era ones that I loved so much. They were more extravagant, over-the-top, and actually out of place, something that you would see at a grand world event that takes place every four years. The water was moving in disturbingly unnatural ways for one thing, sometimes spurting upwards in strange funnels or gently spewing creating a wall of pseudo-mist. And the jets on the pedestal were not working for whatever reason, which was the showpiece of the entire fountains to begin with. I have no idea whether they will be installed at a later time or if someone will decide to open a shawerma stand directly on the pedestal, which at this point would not surprise me.
It's hard to say how people will react to the new fountains. I am sure purists like myself will pine for the old ones, while those who have heard that the new fountains are constructed with the "latest European technology" will be assuaged. While I walked past the spectators I heard someone describe the fountains as being a "madhouse." Nevertheless, I must admit that the fountains were impressive to say the least.
Labels: Thoughts and Musings
But when it comes to purchasing the gift and taking up a collection, I find some problems. Today one of the women in the office came to my desk, actually startling me, and said, "We're collecting money." When I asked why, the answer was, "It's Liana's birthday." After she walked away I asked the guy sitting next to me what's it to us (especially given the fact that birthday girl didn't bother bringing us any cake or champagne) and the answer was, "It's Liana's birthday."
It's odd to me that some self-designated person has to bother everyone in the office about such trivialities. It's very thoughtful of the workmates to want to purchase some sort of birthday gift, but when she told me how much I was required to give, I thought that was going a bit overboard. I don't even know what they intend to buy for her, and she didn't even consider whether I or anyone for that matter could afford it, not to mention if they wanted to contribute to the fund. You know, an e-mail message to everyone would suffice suggesting they chip in if wish to do so. But here, it seems you are obliged no matter what. Vsyo.
So this is the situation. I wanted to tell the woman after I gave her the money that it is not right to go around and demand cash from everyone, especially if they may not be inclined to donate for whatever reason. The conundrum is the following: if I complain to her, she will think that I am a mean, boring bastard. If I do not give her the money, she will think I am a cheap and selfish asshole. So it's a catch-22 of sorts. I don't know what to fathom about these monthly dues, but it seems I have no choice but to commit.
Labels: Personal Experiences, Social and Cultural, Thoughts and Musings
Labels: Personal Experiences, Thoughts and Musings
You can find several people selling sunflower seeds at places throughout the city that have the most foot traffic, such as along Mashdots Avenue, in front of the post office building on Republic Square, and around Freedom Square, where the Opera House is located. But these are only a few locations, and the vendors can easily transport their goods to other parts of the city since they use special carriages. Some of these vendors also sell peanuts, bite-sized unripe plums when in season, and other snacks but I have never seen anyone eating them in public. But more often than not you can notice an older woman sitting on a short stool selling them out of a large bowl. The price if I am not mistaken is about 100 dram, or about 35 cents more or less, for a small cupful, which is dumped into a funnel made of newspaper for easy handing. By far, sunflower seeds reign supreme in terms of snack consumption, and chomping on them can undoubtedly be considered a favorite pastime. You can even find chocolate-covered shelled sunflower seeds in some specialty grocery stores.
There are different sorts of seeds that are available. Some are fairly small, probably the same that are used ordinarily for bird food. I am guessing those seeds are made available for youngsters who are being weaned to become mature sunflower seed munchers. There are also some that are long and thin in shape, usually black and white, and others that are probably considered to be medium-sized to large judging by sight and what logic would determine as being a proper sunflower seed. It’s impossible to say where they are coming from—I would venture to guess from Turkey as well as Russia—apparently the country is the largest producer of sunflower seeds in the world. Last year Turkish sunflower seeds sealed in convenient snack packs were being advertised on TV.
I am not an authority on seeds but I know that I do not enjoy eating them. I remember when growing up my family would crack open heavily salted pumpkin seeds between their front teeth, which I always found unsatisfying on the few occasions I attempted to partake in the enjoyment. There are people I have seen—I can’t recall who to be honest—who had eaten so many seeds that they had worn a small groove between their two upper front teeth. You can sit back and contemplate on how may kilos of seeds they consumed in their lifetimes to achieve that feat.
At public events such as large, open-air concerts like the Al Di Meola performance the other night, streets are strewn with thousands of seed shells. They are everywhere, there is no mistaking them. A common site is also a distributed pile of shells at random spots on the sidewalk, where loiterers have been before moving off to another arbitrary place to perpetuate their loafing. Armenian men love to loiter, usually waiting for something unimportant to happen while chatting about subjects that exemplify vanity.
Now that I have thoroughly criticized the consumption of sunflower seeds, I can say that although I do not seek them out, when offered seeds that you have to pick out of the fresh-cut flower to munch on I do not refuse, especially when there is a cold beer to chug along with them. The seeds are succulent, exploding as soon as you bite down, and the shells are malleable so that you can actually extract the seed without shattering the thing in your mouth and fishing it out with your tongue, then holding it between your teeth and gum while simultaneously spitting out the mutilated shell (that has been my experience at least). In their raw state the seeds taste much better.
The one major plus about sunflower seeds is that they’re healthy. According to Wikipedia, the harvested seeds are actually the fruit of the sunflower. It also claims that:
In addition to linoleic acid (an essential fatty acid), sunflower seeds are also an excellent source of dietary fiber, protein, Vitamin E, B Vitamins, and minerals such as magnesium, iron, phosphorus, selenium and zinc. Additionally, they are rich in cholesterol-lowering phytosterols.
So at least Armenians are looking after themselves, even though they may not be cognizant of the fact.
Labels: Food and Drink, Personal Experiences, Social and Cultural, Thoughts and Musings
Labels: Music
Take the traffic situation for example. The obscene number of cars on the road going up each passing week never ceases to baffle me. There are too many cars for the city to handle. The streets are fully congested now, whereas this time last year it was still manageable to drive around town, albeit with around 300,000 registered vehicles on the roads. According to my observations there are several reasons for the insanity and phenomenon of the aspiring motorist.
- A blatant disregard for the rules of the road. Most drivers cruising the streets of Yerevan have no regard for traffic laws, or they no better but drive to endanger anyway. Usually drivers of fairly new SUVs are the ones who are most cocky, and the second in line are apero whippersnappers cruising in their Lada model of choice, weaving in and out of traffic like cockroaches on the run from being stomped.
- Too many driver's licenses being issued. Apparently, although legally people have to take driving tests to receive their license, many people are able to bypass that formality by slipping a bribe to the official responsible for allocating them in the first place. Thus you have a bunch of clueless people on the road whose sole purpose for driving is to exhibit their new European luxury sedan.
- Too many "shitboxes" on the road. Used car importers realized that not everyone can spend a minimum of $4000 on a newly used car. And I am talking about cars like a 1991 Opel Vectra, which should be worth at the most $1000 when factoring in the number of miles/kilometers the things have been driven. So now you see all sorts of bizarre cars on the road that should have been crushed and sold as scrap metal years ago. All sorts of Japanese, European, and even American clunkers can been noticed now rolling down the boulevards of Yerevan. Of course, many of the drivers seem to be pensioners just judging from appearances, so they drive extremely slow and like to unexpectedly pull over to the curb without signalling. The obvious solution would be to ban all further imports of such jalopies and send the ones on the roads now, especially the old Volgas to the junkyard. Then again, they would only be replaced by slightly newer jalopies.
- Traffic police are few in numbers. When the traffic cops were soliciting bribes in all areas of the city there were plenty of them out there. Now that they actually required to do their jobs, like to direct traffic when roads are congested and pull drivers over for breaking the law, there aren't enough of them out there. I am of course glad they are working hard now, but if only there were more than a dozen patrolling Yerevan....
- Tunnels! The city's mayor decided a few months ago that the way to solve Yerevan's traffic problem was to start doing extensive, complex road work in the most vital intersections, especially in areas where there is no other viable road to use as a bypass. Instead of focusing on repairing or replacing faulty traffic light systems and banning parallel parking along all major streets downtown, he determined that the best solution would be to build tunnels! Soon we will all benefit from traveling though underpasses across the city. Apparently bridges are being built in areas where tunnels cannot, such as Paregamutiun (Friendship) Square, arguably the busiest intersection as it links the Arabkir district to the city's center. Trouble is they are all being constructed at the same time and manpower not to mention financial resources are limited. No one can tell how much skimming off the top is going on, and there is no telling when they will be completed. Seems like we can refer to these projects combined as the Big Dig 2, with the city placing second to Boston.
- Too many minibuses. I estimate that least 80 percent of Yerevan's inhabitants use minibuses for transport. There are hundreds of them on the roads. The routes that they travel along are countless, yet many of the minibuses, which are essentially vans, travel along the same route but make a left instead of a right turn for instance close to the end of the journey. More importantly, many of these vans, especially the Soviet RAF which is the equivalent to the 1980s Chrysler minivans, are completely unsafe for travel, yet manage to hold 12 or more passengers anyway, some of them stooping in the aisle or blocking the sliding door. Full-size replacement buses are now on the roads but they are few and far between
- Jaywalkers are out of control. Pedestrians cross the street wherever they like, and the situation is getting worse with the passing day. I noticed that at intersections where obvious underground pedestrian passageways are present, walkers still prefer to cross the street, although it is extremely dangerous and probably in retrospect takes longer to do so as many people are left stranded on the line separating traffic. So cars have to either slow down and swerve around people brave enough to actually stand between two lanes of north or south bound traffic--a common sight--or come to a complete stop, thereby risking being hit in a rear-end collision since the concept of pedestrian right of way doesn't exist.
***
I seem to never stop wondering what a good number of Armenian men are thinking regarding their fashion sense. The summer fad has been for as long as I can remember for men to wear a tank-top A-cut white jersey underneath a short-sleeved shirt that is sheer. I am guessing that sheer shirts that are found in markets are actually of poor quality, not because they are meant to be sheer. I gather this because I have noticed that the style of the shirt has nothing to do with whether you can see through it to obviously find a tank-top being worn underneath. Thing is, you can find shirts that are better in quality for the same price. The look, combined with the pointy high-heeled shoes, is very odd and perceptively tasteless. But that's just my opinion I suppose.
***
I should add that although there are noticeable flaws seemingly everywhere in society and pop culture, Armenia is still a fabulous place to be. There never seems to be a dull moment here (although the working stiff routine is left to be desired). I can genuinely say that I am thrilled to be living here, and at this point in my life I can't imagine being anywhere else.
Labels: Personal Experiences, Social and Cultural
Labels: Thoughts and Musings
It has become apparent that the traffic police in Yerevan are starting to do their jobs. A few months back all regional border police were fired from their positions, probably as a measure to curb corruption since they didn’t do anything besides pull over random vehicles to extort bribes from their owners. Following that measure soon after was a dismissal of most if not all of the traffic police force in Yerevan.
The results have been staggering. Police officers who have pulled over motorists for breaking the law can be seen writing out tickets with all the corresponding forms laid out on the backs of their cruisers, while the hapless victim looks on biting his nails. This has become a common site throughout central Yerevan, although I have noticed that erratic drivers can get away with a lot more in other parts of the city where traffic police are scarce. Motorists driving too fast bordering on losing control are still widely seen and probably won’t go away very soon, but efforts are underway to control such situations. There is also the issue of unnecessary passing, especially at red lights where impatient drivers cannot wait their turn to go through the intersection and instead pass the row of idling cars to be the first at the stop line—usually they don’t bother waiting for the light to turn green.
Within the last month I have already been pulled over twice in my neighborhood. About four weeks ago, when I was approaching Sakharov Square traveling down Vardanants Street, I failed to stop at the line, which was partially worn anyway. It has become a habit to do so unfortunately because often you see that the traffic light at the far end of the square doesn’t work so you have to roll forward across the line and look at the light on the far right directing perpendicular traffic, waiting for it to turn red. A police cruiser (a compact Peugeot actually) saw what I did and pulled me over. I tried to explain that the line was worn away, but in the next breath I admitted to wrongdoing—there was nothing else to do, I wasn’t about to argue with him. Only yesterday I went through the traffic light situated right below my apartment which I thought was yellow, but according to the police officer traveling behind me, it was red. I was pulled over again at Sakharov Square and after explaining that I believed the light was yellow, I again confessed to breaking the rules. Even if it was yellow I should have stopped, which is what I usually do but instead I was careless. I’ll have to admit that the reckless driving I encounter virtually every minute on the road is affecting my own style of driving, and sometimes I find myself with the mindset that “If others can get away with it why can’t I?” These incidents with the traffic police remind me that those thoughts are dead wrong. On both occasions I was let go when they saw from my Massachusetts driver’s license that I was not a local. But although I was relieved in the first case that I just mentioned, I actually encouraged the police officer to write me the ticket (which would have been a fine of 30,000 dram supposedly) and go through the lawful process.
Since Monday driving on the roads in the morning has been atrocious. Apparently on the first day of school everyone decides to personally take their children there, which is a good thing I suppose but it causes complete chaos. Now it seems that people are finding other ways to transport their kids, perhaps through public transit, but during these past few days I have seen police directing traffic as best as humanly possible at the busiest intersections. They could not manage to stop impatient drivers because it is simply too difficult, but it was a fantastic sight to see the police doing what they are supposed to do.
I am sure that there are cops out there that are still taking bribes, which is most likely the case, and there is much more improvement needed with controlling reckless driving. But the point is that the process in place is working, and I am a witness to the change. Now if only the officers at the registry of motor vehicles stopped taking bribes for handing out licenses without enforcing that people take driving tests to prove they are capable of operating whatever they intend to drive, be it a new Mercedes-Benz or a decrepit Russian jalopy. Apparently some minibus drivers are secured licenses without having prior driving experience which explains their dangerous moves. In any case, although driving is extremely difficult in Yerevan and will remain so for a while, things will start improving before long if the current trend continues.
Labels: Social and Cultural
***
Growing up in the states, I would often hear the expression “better him than me” repeated by my elders when referring to someone being ill or in some dire personal situation. To this day, I do not feel comfortable with that way of thinking. It seems that everyone that I meet here are also opposed to such a philosophy.
For the most part, everyone does whatever they can here to assist their fellow human in need.
“It used to be a lot better, a lot stronger before,” says Mamikon, a resident of the “Yerort Mass” district of Yerevan. “In the old days, if you had your neighbors over for dinner and ran out of something, they would go home and bring it over. Because everyone was the same, was equal.”
Mamikon is referring to the social interaction between people when Armenia was part of the Soviet Union. Under the Soviet socialist economic structure, most citizens of Armenia received nearly the same wages and were equal to one another in terms of social status. The fraternal bond that binds all Armenians to one another was even stronger during those times, and, generally, that sense of selflessness towards one’s neighbor has carried on until today.
By nature, Armenians welcome strangers, especially outsiders. I have heard stories of villagers taking in and feeding strangers passing through, offering assistance, before setting them back on the road towards their destinations.
People here in general help each other out in all ways -- financially, socially, and morally. When, for instance, a person trips and falls on the sidewalk and may have been injured, within a minute a small crowd gathers around the person, helps the person up to his or her feet, and walks the person home to his or her doorstep. Then they make sure that the person is comfortable and has everything he or she needs to recuperate.
Garik strolls around the fountains of Republic Square usually every night, from 8:00 pm to midnight, or later. He waits for friends to arrive, to chat, and to sit by the fountains to cool off during the warm summer nights in Yerevan. He’s usually there for most of the day.
He is waiting to receive money from his sister living in San Francisco so that he can return to his native Estonia.
“I’ve had it here,” he tells me. “There’s nothing for me here. At least in Estonia I have work.”
Garik is a mechanic by trade, but he has little or no work in Yerevan, since the garage he works for cannot afford to give him steady work.
Most of the young Armenian men in their twenties that are still living here -- those that have not left for Russia or elsewhere to find work -- face the same troubles. Although the official unemployment rate is reported at 10% by the Armenian government, the actual rate exceeds 40%.
The poverty rate is also exceedingly high. An estimated 45% of the population in Armenia lives below the poverty line, many of whom live in Yerevan.
Thus, when I see Garik once or twice a week around Republic Square, and we spend time together drinking tea or smoking a cigarette, I am obliged at some point to help him out financially. Since he lives a considerable distance from the center in the Malatia-Sebastia district of Yerevan, he usually walks home by foot, which usually takes about an hour. The other options are to take minibuses that cost about $0.20, most of which stop running after 11:00 pm, or take a taxi, which costs about $1.75. He is lucky if he has the latter amount in his pocket to last him for the week as living expenses.
As an outsider living in Armenia, I find myself needing to spend just under $100 a week to live “normally,” which is spent on food and essentials for my home, expenses such as rent and utilities, gifts, public transportation costs, meal expenses, and occasionally, going out to a café with friends. Naturally, I also account for distributing some money to people that I meet, such as Garik.
I cannot understand how most Armenians in Yerevan survive on $40 or less as a monthly salary, if they are even paid. Most government employees are paid very low wages, and it is not uncommon for them to have their pay suspended. Doctors and nurses usually request to be paid by their patients. Police officers make their wages by pulling over speeding motorists and extorting the equivalent of $1.75 to make the problem go away, or else pay a fine of $10 or more to the government. To save trouble and money, most motorists caught speeding pay the bribe to the policeman. It’s the only way that he will get paid.
When Garik asked me, and he was ashamed to do so, to loan him 3000 drams (less than $6) to visit his sick father living in Spitak recovering from pneumonia, I knew I had to give it to him because there was no one else he knew that could help him out. He had explained to me that his family was obliged to pay over $300 in hospital and medicine fees the week before when his father was in a Yerevan hospital. I hesitated to give him an immediate answer, but when he opened his wallet to find something, I noticed that he had no money in it at all. Naturally, I gave him the money, but he only agreed that I loan it to him on the condition that he would pay me back a week later, as well as for the few times I helped him out before, as soon as he received the money from his sister, even though I told him it wasn’t necessary. We agreed that we would meet near the Republic Square fountains, Tuesday evening at 10:00 pm (which means anytime between 10:00 and 11:00 -- Armenian time is universal).
I do expect to meet Garik at the fountains, and I do expect that he will have the money in hand, grinning and encouraging me to take it, because I know he will keep his word. But I don’t expect to take it. In this case, it is better him than me.
***
As an endnote I ran into Garik a few more times. The last time in 2002 was in November —his father had just died and he was in desperate need of cash to get by. He also looked emaciated, and when he saw me from a short distance his eyes lit up. I went home, which was only a five-minute walk away from where we met, to get some cash and gave him around $100 or so as that was all I could afford. He thanked me, then disappeared. Three years later I saw him again at the exact same spot on Sakharov Square. He had gained some weight and had a good build, like that of a light-weight boxer. He was working as an auto mechanic in one of dozens of garages somewhere along Nardos Street. When he saw me he recognized me instantly, and I was thrilled to see him in such great shape, but especially after knowing that he had made himself successful on his own.
Labels: Personal Experiences, Social and Cultural, Thoughts and Musings
Tings...
The Armenia Blog
Armenia Travel Blog
The Armenian Economist
Armenian Eyes
The Armenian Observer Blog
The Armenian Odar
ArmYouth Blog
Cicer et cetera
Global Voices Online Armenia
IPen
Halfway Down The Danube
Hasmik's Blog
The Instant Me
Karoun Charkoudian
Iain Dale's Diary
Life Around Me
Martuni Or Bust!!!
Neeka's Backlog
Oneworld Blog
Recollections of a Vagabonde
Transitions Online
Sarkis Mkrtchian's Blog
Tonyspad.com
Tour Armenia
Hetq Online
Armenia Liberty
The Armenian Weekly
Radio-Gayane - Armenian Radio
BlogRankings.com
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009