privolnoye

Another visit to a village.  Another incredible time with an incredible family which feels like some kind of gift I do not deserve.  But what to do but completely soak it in which, of course, is what I did. This time another PCV and I, plus a Latvian friend of mine from the European Volunteer Service, headed to Privolnoye up in the mountains near the Georgian border.  We met Ruzana, an ethnically Russian woman who returned to her village after a disheartening time trying to make a life in the capital city.  Ruzana runs a hugely successful children’s club which…

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…

a ghoul in winter

I’m home in my little Armenian town for a quick minute and feel the need to send out a tiny message to the blogosphere:  There’s a little monster I like to call the I-Thought-I-Knew-What-Was-Happening Ghoul, and it got me again. I’m not sure if this is a working-in-a-foreign language phenomenon or it’s just me, but I often find myself agreeing to go places for what I think is a short event only to be gone FOR SEVEN HOURS or so. I thought I was going to “install a khachkar” and have a quick word about the project I’m going to…