good, really good

I’ve been in that catch-up-with-normalcy phase that happens after your mom makes a whizbang journey across the earth to see you.  I feel like I used up all my language skills on my mother and for the last week or so can’t seem to construct a full Armenian sentence.  I’m feeling the weight of my current state, the missing of mom added to the pressure of work projects mixed with the swirl of information concerning my grad school search sweetened by the idea of visiting friends all floating on an under current of Oh How I Love My Life and…

doing some drifting

  Some World Vision coworkers and I have been working on a Youth Leader Small Grants project, teaching Armenian village students about project design and management and, through a series of steps, awarding some of these village kids with small grants to do projects in their communities.  In one small village, Yaghdan, the students applied for furniture and supplies for their new youth center.  The first thing they wanted to do with these new supplies was a small weekend camp.  So, after World Vision supplied the furniture, myself and another Peace Corps volunteer went to the village with a couple…

in five days

In the last five days I have: -Hosted an American-Armenian friend whose language skills betray the second part of the title but who’s dinosaur shirt and blue tights screamed the first. -With said friend*, munched gobs of fresh fruit in the crumbling form of an old bathhouse at the 1000 year-old ruins just outside of town. -*Commited to hitching back from said ruins.  Surprised at the first takers: a couple bouncing along in their horse and buggy.  The metal shell of the the buggy had clearly held manure not too long ago.  But what’s a little manure between friends? -*Made…

bill nye for adults, daisies, more puppy photos, etc.

You know when you email someone you haven’t seen in a while, and you have one million things to say.  You end up writing something that sounds so disjointed but filled with all the things you would try to bring up in conversation when you saw them.  This is one of those kinds of emails, to you. 1. The Clooker should NOT hack up a lougie in front of my window. So we’re clear. 2. I just read/listened to this interview done by an Armenian newsite with one of my fellow PCV’s. It’s wonderful and makes me wonder what I…