you are as intense as istanbul

It may be the fact that i sit to write after nearly 2 full days of traveling back to Yerevan from Mrs. Istanbul. Freakin' borders. Given its specific geography, there is no way you can forget that it's the "5th largest city proper" in the world. Twelve, seventeen, and twenty million were the populations reported, sometimes gratuitous, sometimes not. So, yesh, the idea of a bloglette at this point to capture the trip makes me chickle not only because it would be days long, but also because i know there are people who have the capacity to gab on... and their readers would just skip through to get to pictures, kudos. Obviously, i need some time to process, but i choose share a tad-ish first.

The city made a window approximately five days long [halfway through], for me to enjoy, to get comfortable, basically long enough for me to be completely mind-blown when things that would make my mother cringe happened. So for the sake of her sanity, i will stick with the pleasant, but let it be known that i now know from experience that i can jump out of a moving car to get away from an aggressive cabi and, thanks to a separate event, that police does Not equal police report [of course, these two things can apply to any city]. No wonder i spent two days at a lovely quiet island beach.


This cat, with joker mouth captures the craziness of the city. He was one of many cats that entertained my camera's lens. i would no doubt already have 5 cats living with me, cat-ladying me up.



Leave it to the locals to give you a place to stay for free, eat one of the best fish dinners for under 5 USD, take you to a cover-chargeless modern jazz show [as the city is teaming with musikaners], and accompany you to the beach because of the fact that they had not been once since living for over 10 years in the magnificence that is. I was granted experiencing as a fat-cat tourist and a subdued cash-strapped locAl [as close as i could get anyway]. The place, as anyone has been knows, is expensive, very expensive. I won't even tell you the amount i had set in my head for spending money, it's just embarrassing.

Cosmopolitan vacationers. Thankful for my brownness - it steers the curious away to avoid confrontation. Is it cowardly and uninspiring? Yes. Did i care at the time? No. Why? Because i just wanted to stare into the sea and relax. Yeah, I was so grateful, i had already said "Mexico," when i heard the man who had just kindly forced tea upon me while ferrying my way to the beach say "Iraq." Acknowledgment: What an interesting conversation that would have been... had things gone well.
Really though, i didn't feel like dealing with awkward, or words for that matter - cue Leslie to speak with a Spanish accent. My few sputtered words had him asking if I spoke any other languages. Russian slowed us both down and kept the conversation to niceties. phew-skis. So now, this Mexican girl is in several vacation videos of this nice Iraqi man, smiling and waving, nothing more.

I was only in Istanbul. I know you think, "But what about the rest of the mammoth nation?" I leave this for when the border opens, to experience with family, a celebratory event, if you will. I plan on walking through the open Armenian border to Eastern Turkey, peace flags in tow.

It's good to be back in 1 - 1.5 million Yerevan, it's closer to SA's size/speed, and at the same time it's sad knowing that more time could not have been spent working on reaching over-saturation. If i had a choice, wouldn't mind eating myself to death in Istanbul.

But these words are just as overplayed as the photos that fill my digital library - it's all been done before - insert tourist here.

Viva!

everywhere

I looked up the word for spicy before leaving the neighborhood. Was on the way to our very conveniently placed food market at the foot of the neighborhood with Armenian/English dictionary in tow. Bar-ka-han was bookmarked and everything. Mission: cilantro and Armenian version of the jalepeno for my salsa roja. This had been on my mind for some time, but I only later remembered why i'd yet to go through with the B.Crockerness of it all. Chips are not readily available.

I stopped at the first peppers spotted. $.03 per. When answering the vendor's question with "Mexico" I was wrapped in warmth at her knowledge-dropping rhetorical question, "You all like spicy things, right?" Yes. The substitute called in for the chips was buckwheat. I love that stuff, truly, but i, as one might guess, was let down.



These ducks are famous, they live in a duckhouse that is just to the right of the picture, in the middle of the structure. It's a pretty cool zodiac fountain in front of the Moskovian movie theater near the opera house. I was late on the click, missing the lighter duck stretch its neck down for a drink of its swimming/waste water...



To celebrate the 4th i read Eej's hijacked Black Garden, nationalism's nationalism ya know? Then the next day saw Shrek 3 in Russian. If only Eddie Murphy could speak Russian, then audiences around the world could truly embrace the character. Luckily, Puss in Boots uses more visual cues. friggin' Shrek... Lots of details expounded just to convey that it was a little bit of home to see the Familiar.


Any time i read about the struggle between Armenia and Azerbaijan, knowing that the Dark Years were only about 18 years ago, i can't help but stare longer at the aged. A lifetime compressed into a shrinking body so tightly the gray and wrinkled blooms begin outnumbering memories; and then the connection is made that this cohort had kids to worry about and protect back when - i wonder what their version looked like. Armenian language needed stat.

Armenia came in 2nd to Moldova for the C Division of Women's European Championship tournament. So, they're movin' on up.
Interesting telemarketing practices in these parts. 1) Call to sell internet service, 2) Ask if resident is using internet service, 3) Ask which provider resident is using, 4) Hang up abruptly after retrieving info that informs no sale can be made. ta-dah! Why US telemarketers didn't start off with this tactic, who knows, i mean their unregulated days were always numbered right?

i am in ARMENIA

My interpretation of the Armenian cuisine is that it makes more room for the sweet than the salty. So, when I reclaim my ways of yore [tejas], how dramatic, by making a special trip to the 24-hour mart just outside the neighborhood to pick up a bag of chips, it is not so surprising that my fingertips move into exhilaration mode, landing me here in blog-ville.

I'm giddy. I found a bag of frito-esque chips flavored "Sabor Barbacoa." What? That's right, Mexican bbq. To my benefit,there's a tex-mex fiend nestled in this city. So, my greedy self can't help but try to now predict when Mets Karmir [Big Red] will grace Hayastan with its presence. Its main rival Fanta is also here so, like in the states, i may have to settle with the strawberry F-word substitute. bah. Also, for those who don't know, I'm just tolerating the bbq for now and eagerly awaiting "Sabor Sal con Limon."

It's now July and noticeably hot, not because it's hotter than in Tejas, but because i'm needing to keep the house windows shut. When opened, my appendages become covered in welts that indicate i am of foreign blood. I am the current heroine to the bugs in these parts. The same thing happened in Kazakhstan, for several weeks in the summer my legs resembled post medieval feast tables complete with scattered pig carcasses, wine-stained wood at the mouth of a toppled goblet, etc. My toothpicks are a mess and will grow worse as the scratching continues to send me into blissful states. I'm the person wearing a turtleneck in the summer covering the hickeys the inconsiderate other decided to leave behind. calamine please!

What were once my legs are immediately forgotten when my neighbor passes me the jar of Rose Jam. I seriously need to be given some type of break by this lovely woman. With every jar of this or that that she places in my hands i am reminded of how horribly i'll do during any future Mad Max eras. At this rate i'll be the last person with the necessary Tina Turner chain mail covered shoulder mounds. rose jam... i'm such a city mouse.


The Armenian Woman's Basketball team successfully made it to what i guess could be called the semifinals after playing against Scotland. It's been great watching the last several games against Moldova and Gibraltar, this is the European tournament. I wikipedia-ed Gibraltar after that first match, yup, that feels good to type out loud. It's wonderful to catch the NBA feel in Yerevan's 3rd District gymnasium whose windows remain 80% shut, which makes the spectator wish they were either naked or in swimsuit to fully experience that which is sauna while ladies dribble away on the court.

Cover your eyes when watching the game because the FIBA logo hurts the soul. Fascinating that a friend is convinced that it's the horrible work of Russian graphic designers, because only "such crap could come from them..." [translation subject to interpretation] To me, it's more obvious that either a worldwide group of misogynists bought their appointment to the FIBA PR team, Stacey's Sports Bar's influence is just that extensive, or the makers of the iconic mudflaps own the FIBA bball league. These guesses are due simply to the fact that the logo could easily be the signage for a place that hosts exotic dance technicians. Serious apsos (pity) that young girls and boys are barraged with this imagery every time they innocently/patriotically attend a game. A hired version of myself, one able to support a vandalism fine at this stage of the game, would gravely consider a late night sneak-in to the gymnasium for a splattering of red paint all over the over sized court logo. arghness.
It's great to watch the crowd go so wild they refuse to quiet down while the home team is concentrating on a free throw. Admittedly, i was initially Ameri-centrically appalled at the fan mannerisms, but was shaken quickly out of such a state when the baskets kept on comin'. JACK-SON! HAI-YA-STAN!



Said a couple of encouraging words at the one year anniversary conference/celebration of the online school that i'm taking my beginners Armenian language courses from. I was happy to help, but disappointed that i was part of the way-too-many student testimonials also given via skype and oovoo, which ultimately made me miss out on the post-event cake. Second irritation came from the lady cheerleading online education by referencing the ever increasing profits of private institutions like Devry, Phoenix, etc. She was the only English speaking speaker apart from myself and a Fulbright scholar. In response to her cult like love for online education, i could only recount the words within a Harper's article that gave poor scores on quality within these school's administrations, reporting that they care less about student learning and more about increasing enrollment numbers. In time I suppose we will see if this article is one of many other ploys by the privileged who are irked by the fact that the working poor have found yet another way into what they thought to be their exclusive game.

There's a bit of civil discord concerning the bill that just recently passed through parliament that gives private entities [relegated to only 2 specific cities, mind you] the permission to be foreign language specific, meaning they do not have to teach school children Armenian. Naturally, there are groups that are against what they interpret as stifling of the Armenian culture in such an open way. Just one article on the issue. It's interesting to observe a familiar culture war being fought in another country. Every cause needs its radicals. All the while plays are being performed in Russian by Armenian youth as their parents clap on.

Viva!