Notes From Hairenik
June 29, 2011
Beautiful Boy

These days my primary concern is being able to look after the family. Between caring for Areg and entertaining Chi Chi, let alone ensuring that Anush is doing well, I don't have very much time for my personal projects, including updating my blogs as frequently as I would like.

Fatherhood is I suppose nothing like you had imagined while waiting for baby to make his grand appearance. For me at least, I imagined myself being serious and stern in some ways with caring for the child, even in the way I communicated with him. I vowed I would never use "baby talk" for instance, I figured it would be best to speak with the child as an adult and respect him as such. Little did I know that you cannot help but speak baby talk -- it's like a dormant language that comes into fluency as soon as you're in the presence of an infant. I've read that baby talk actually strengthens a baby's communication skills as he prepares to begin talking on his own. But I don't think that assumption really matters much. My main goal in talking with him is not so much trying to make him understand, but to provoke a smile. Watching that grin form on his puffy face is one of the greatest things I've ever seen. It's addictive, I can't get enough of seeing him be amused.



Early this morning when I awoke I noticed that he was playing in his swinging crib, making those cooing sounds he makes when he's excited about something he sees, a pattern, a toy he likes, whatever. Because he is so restless by nature he turned himself around 90 degrees while in a lying position, accomplished by repeatedly kicking his legs in the air and moving his rear end to the right in the movement. That was something new to me, he's turned himself before but not to such a degree. Shortly after I approached I realized that he had learned how to make the animals hanging from the battery-operated mobile affixed to one of the crib's rails shake, simply by moving about excitedly. When I turned on the mobile so that the animals began rotating clockwise above him he began to flail fervently, practically non-stop. He only did slow down when he worked himself an appetite and sounded the alarm.


Areg cries often but I don't know if that qualifies him as being a cry baby. He is not colicky, as there are long periods where he doesn't make a peep, especially when he's being rocked or bounced. I learned that unfamiliar, random sounds can startle him just the other day when I sneezed rather loudly in the bedroom a few inches beside him. He turned bright red and was having trouble breathing for several seconds before the alarm finally started. But when I sneezed just as loud yesterday while holding him he didn't react the same way; he seemed to shrug it off instead. The crying is attributed mainly to being hungry, needing a change or being bored. And there's usually sobbing involved in connection to being bathed -- either he doesn't want to get in or out of the tub, or he is hungry after being pampered, he doesn't like the feeling of whatever clothes his mom and grandma want to dress him with, etc. 


I don't know what else to tell about him for now. The photo above I think sums up this post best.

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Posted by Christian Garbis at 11:18 AM.
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June 20, 2011
Saving the Armenian Porcupine
Late yesterday morning while taking Areg for a stroll down Yerevan's Sayat Nova Street we saw a few women standing near a tree looking down at something and commenting to one another. I didn't know what to think so I kept pushing the stroller forward, not the least bit interested in whatever they were fussing about. But Anush being curious by nature took a gander and saw a porcupine sitting on the soil of a flower garden, breathing heavily. 

The animal seemed dead at a distance but the closer we approached the more obvious it was that it was still alive. One of the gawking women there worked at the khachaburi stand that was perched a few feet away and another operated the neighboring flower shop. Apparently they witnessed this poor animal fall from a second floor balcony, and not only did he not end up on the sidewalk, he landed at the bottom of a staircase  leading to a basement-level retail space directly below that happens to be empty. That distance added another seven feet at least to the drop. He was evidently placed in a cardboard box, which he tipped over probably in an attempt to escape, and he must have been disoriented when he finally freed himself, thereby taking the wrong step forward.

Some of the bristles on his back seemed pressed in, which I supposed marked the spot that made contact with the tiled steps in the fall. Anush was busy discussing with the women about what should be done, and they sounded a bit clueless. The animal was lifting his head up and sort of sniffing his environs, which was a very good sign we thought, although he couldn't move from his position on his own.  She called Chi Chi's veterinarian, Natasha, who works in a combination animal clinic and pet store on Pushkin Street. After a few tries reaching her she finally picked up the phone and told her that we should take the little guy to the exotic animal vivarium on Mashdots Street as they had professionals on staff that could properly treat the animal. We hastily decided that the best way of transporting him there was in a small box that we would place in the stroller's undercarriage storage basket. The khachaburi lady found a box that was too shallow and large for the stroller to handle. Then the flower lady scoured her shelves and found one that was the perfect size -- see the photos below. Even the security guard at the VivaCell store was on hand to help, who carefully lifted the porcupine into the box. Just as we were about to roll on our way Areg started acting up, which meant that Anush would have to carry him part of the way. The khachaburi seller insisted that she would be able to care for the animal after he received proper treatment, but somehow I didn't think that would have been a very good idea.




Areg enjoys being transported around town in a jogging stroller, which is essentially the SUV of baby carriages. This thing must have been specifically engineered by the manufacturer to withstand Yerevan's bumpy, uneven sidewalks. It utilizes three small bicycle tires that can seemingly handle any road condition, so the porcupine was certainly going to be secure, given that he was immobile in his state of agony. From our position it took us about 20 minutes or so to get to the vivarium, and although we had never been there we found it rather easily, situated in the rear of a modern art museum on the corner of Zakyan and Mashdots streets. As we approached a woman was walking up the stairs to the entrance and Anush asked if she worked there. She said she did and sent someone out to talk to us. A man stood on the landing at the top of the stairs and waved us off, adamant that the porcupine didn't have a chance, but we should find the vet on Pushkin Street anyway to see what could be done. He was dismayed when we told him that Natasha was the one who sent us there. 

Anush thought it best that we take the animal to Levon's place were he could look after him until the following morning when the animal clinic opened, but I would have none of that. I went inside and spoke to that same guy myself, asking why they didn't want to care for a vulnerable animal using the proper conditions and their know-how at their disposal. After all, they obviously understood how to take care of the "exotic" animals and reptiles they kept. Then he put a camera around his neck and walked away. When I reminded him that I was talking to him directly, he pointed in the direction of someone wearing some kind of uniform talking on the phone, who was evidently the go-to guy all along. Meanwhile, a middle aged woman sitting behind him was indifferently munching on an ice cream cone, a response that up until a year ago I would have taken for surreal given the circumstances, but I have learned to accept that type of odd behavior as being somewhat normal in Armenia. After he hung up the phone he listened to what I had to say, apparently uninformed about the porcupine. He followed me downstairs to examine the animal. When he lifted the porcupine off the box a puddle of reddish fluid was evident, and he was pessimistic that it would survive, thus reluctant to admit the animal. I was insistent that he was far more qualified in caring for him, and then he mentioned something about payment needed for treatment. After a minute or two we managed to convince him to take the porcupine under his care, and anticipated that the staff would treat him with dignity in his final moments. 

Anush exchanged contact information and we were off, satisfied that we had done the right thing and accomplished our goal. Quite honestly, I was not optimistic after seeing the bloody liquid that had been dripping from under the porcupine, and I simply put my trust in that man hoping that he was indeed persuaded to do whatever he could.

This morning we were shocked by the good news. Only a half hour ago Anush called the vivarium to inquire about the animal's health, and she was pleased to learn that he had survived! She was convinced the entire time that he would make it, and I really believe that her stream of optimism was his lifeline. He (or perhaps she, we haven't yet found out) pulled through largely thanks to Anush.

We're trying to figure out what to do for him in the long run. They told Levon how to treat him at home, where he'll recover for the time being until we determine the next steps. I am against taking him back to his "owners" since they were so careless with his welfare to begin with. There's some discussion about taking the animal to Levon's dacha in Dzorakhpur, which has a lovely fruit tree orchard for him to scurry around. Seems that from now on, things can only get better for this prickly fella. 

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Posted by Christian Garbis at 12:29 PM.
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June 7, 2011
Back From OVIR
I just returned from a visit to the Office of Visas and Registration (known as OVIR, which is actually an acronym for the name of the agency in Russian) to inquiring about extending my Republic of Armenia special residency visa. Although it expires in December, I wanted to begin the process of renewing it as soon as possible so that I wouldn't run into any snags near the date of expiration.

My father-in-law Levon, through an acquaintance, went about finding out what papers we would need to extend the visa. As it turned out, the standard document list applies, including a letter to the president of the Republic of Armenia. I also needed a translated, notarized copy of my U.S. passport and seven passport-sized photos to present them. The adminsitrator told us it was too soon to file, but he helped us anyway. I didn't know what to expect; I figured I would just have to fill out a basic form indicating my name and other personal information, since the visa -- which looks exactly like a passport except for the "special residency visa" stamp on the first page -- already existed.

He sent us downstairs to an agency that has been in business for two years that does all the paperwork, including drafting the letter to the president, for a mere 2500 dram ($6.65 at today's exchange rate). That includes filling out multiple forms by hand, making five photocopies of my U.S. passport and Armenian visa, and all the related processing, which took just over twenty minutes for the clerk assisting us to accomplish. If anyone reading this post happens to be in Armenia and needs a special residency visa, by all means, use that service. If you're missing photos or need some papers notarized, they process photos on the spot and there's a notary around the corner from OVIR. It's located on the first floor at the far left. They are miracle workers for anyone who needs a visa.

OVIR has a very bad reputation for being an obstinate, corrupt institution. In the past they have caused huge headaches for foreign residents, especially Indian migrants working and attending university in Yerevan, often trying to extort thousands of dollars for a basic one-year visa that shouldn't cost more than a few hundred bucks. While we were talking to the visa administrator, a woman entered the office to inquire about what she had to do to obtain a special residency visa for her son. Apparently, he is a Russian citizen who just completed his two-year service in the Armenian army. According to her story, which she told in front of us for some reason as the administrator was reviewing my paperwork, the head of OVIR, very rudely, told her that a special residency visa would be refused for reasons he did not explain. The law that applies to the refusal has not been made clear to her. I'm not sure how that's going to turn out for her son in the end, but ethically, and legally assuming he hasn't done anything in violation of the law, the head has no right to turn him down.

OVIR supposedly went through a major shake up a few years ago, shortly after it was revealed that huge sums of cash was being extorted from ordinary citizens and foreigners alike, but judging from that woman's story, the agency's reform has been tarnished, despite efforts to make the entire process of filing for citizenship or residency more transparent. However, the administrator helping us seemed to be a decent guy, so we can only hope that he will somehow be able to convince the head of OVIR to cut them some slack.

The pricing scheme for visas is not all that logical. For a 21-day visa you have to pay a couple thousand dram, but for a three-month stay in the country the price is 20,000 dram. Dual citizenship supposedly costs 1,000 dram, while I will be required to pay 150,000 dram -- about $400 -- for the special residency visa. But since it is futile trying to make sense of these seemingly arbitrary fees, it's better to just deal with the reality of the situation. Armenian logic is invincible.

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Posted by Christian Garbis at 12:04 PM.
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