table collection

I know this is going to feel silly, but follow me for a minute.  Web Urbanist featured a photographer who’s much cooler photos feature an individual’s carried items and one of the hands that brought those bits around. Last night I looked at my coffee table, a mess for sure, but also a story about my little ol’ life. It’s a collection of things that have something to say about me, and there was no forethought to their being there at all. There’s a favorite scarf I bought back in 2005 at the advising of an ex girlfriend.  My landmom…

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…

two of them!

Last week found me moving between three cities, meeting new friends and hugging old ones.  And by “old ones” I mean my Peace Corps friends who are now more than a year-old.  My Peace Corps service is nearly half-way over.  [head spins] And by “meeting new friends”, I mostly mean that I met my new sitemates. I have sitemates. Two of them.  Two Americans coming to live in my town.  This really changes so much about my Peace Corps service.  I spend so much of my time in my little Armenian bubble up north.  I get out about once a…