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!