About. two weeks ago, Bill came home from work looking a bit flustered. You see, he was supposed to go to Bavaria last week, for yet another business trip. But then, at the very last minute, the trip went from four nights in Bavaria to four nights in Istanbul, Turkey (or Türkiye). And since Bill is a super good guy who knows I’d been wanting to go back to Istanbul again after a 29 year absence, he invited me to go along with him.
There was, of course, the usual catch. Since his company was paying for the hotel, we had to stay at one within a certain price range. We also had to be at a place that was in the area where Bill was going to be working, which was in the financial district of Istanbul called Maslak.
We had a choice of a few hotels and ended up at the Hilton Istanbul Maslak, which is a lot more comfortable than where I stayed the first time I went to Istanbul. However, it’s a good 13 kilometers from the old town, and the traffic in Istanbul is absolutely horrifying. They do have buses and a metro, but they’re pretty crowded. On the other hand, taking public transportation might be more expeditious than using a cab. The traffic is stupidly bad in Istanbul!
I went to Istanbul in 1996, when I had just turned 24 years old. My friend Elaine and I, having finished our first years as Peace Corps Volunteers in the Republic of Armenia, decided to visit Turkey and Bulgaria by bus. It was quite an adventure. I’ve written about that trip on more than one occasion. It was not an easy vacation, but I learned and grew a lot from it. Just getting to Istanbul by bus took three days straight, with no breaks! We had to go through Georgia to get there, and spent a very long time sitting at the Turkish border.
This trip to Istanbul, by contrast, was much easier and more luxurious. I flew business class on Turkish Airlines, while Bill was in economy (company rules). I’ve got to say, having flown Lufthansa business class a bunch of times, Turkish Airlines has got it all over Lufthansa. I’ll write more about that in the coming days.
Perhaps this visit to Türkiye didn’t require me to stretch quite as much as my trip in 1996 did! Nevertheless, I did learn some new things. So, although this series is not likely to be as full of photos as my series usually are, I think I’ve got some new things to share. I hope you’ll join me as I write up our quick jaunt to Istanbul. I didn’t do as much as I would have wanted to do, but I think now that he’s been to Turkey and seen it for himself, Bill can be persuaded to go back. I hope I can get him to visit Cappadocia. We’ll see…
Anyway, I’ll probably get cranked up with this series tomorrow. Tonight, I’ve got some chores to get done. See you then!
The featured photo is of a cell that was once used in the KGB detention facility. That facility has now turned into the Museum of Occupations and Freedom Fights in Vilnius.
You might be wondering how a proposed trip to Paris, France turned into a trip to the former Soviet Union. Bill had asked me months ago where I wanted to celebrate my birthday. He said maybe it was time we visited Paris again. Our last visit there, and first time visiting Paris together, was in May 2009.
I like Paris fine, and truly have been wanting to go there again. At first, I was all for the idea. But then I started thinking about the crowds. June is the beginning of the high tourist season in Europe, and people from other countries are currently swarming the most popular European cities. So then I started thinking of other places I’ve never been and want to see. We did a champagne bucket draw, and it came down to the Loire Valley in France (which I did visit in September 1997) and Vilnius. We flipped a coin and Vilnius won.
So, we arranged for five nights in Lithuania’s capital. I was excited about it, because we have already been to Latvia and Estonia, the other two Baltic countries. I was eager to see what the largest one would be like. Then I started reading about Vilnius, which people described as a “gem” of a city. I remembered a couple of really nice people from Lithuania who were working on SeaDream I, a gorgeous mega yacht Bill and I have sailed on three times. And, as an informal Soviet Union history buff, I was curious to go to another former republic from that failed regime.
Now that I’ve been to Lithuania, I’ve come away from the experience deeply moved and newly educated. Growing up in the 70s and 80s, I heard a lot about the Soviet Union. Not knowing the history behind it, I assumed that the countries within it were “happy” to be in the Soviet Union. What can I say? I was an ignorant child, and didn’t have the greatest critical thinking skills. We weren’t necessarily taught about the Soviet Union’s history when I was in school. We were just taught that the “commies” were “bad”. It didn’t help that we had right wing movies like Red Dawn promoting stereotypes and propagandizing. Red Dawn came out when I was 12, and it was the very first PG-13 movie. Of course I watched it, and was seduced by its ignorant scaremongering messages.
Eleven years after I saw Red Dawn for the first time, I moved to the former Soviet Union to work for 27 months. I never thought I’d ever visit the former Soviet Union, let alone live there. I went to Armenia, which is not at all like Lithuania, except for the fact that it was also a Soviet country. The Armenian attitude toward Russia seemed to be somewhat more grateful, as Armenians were being threatened by Turks.
Armenians definitely don’t seem to have the same attitude about Russia that Lithuania and other Baltic countries have. Maybe that’s changed since Russia basically abandoned Armenia when Azerbaijan, another former Soviet republic, basically evicted Armenians for Nagorno-Karabakh/Artsakh, part of Azerbaijan that is historically Armenian.
My time in Armenia didn’t inform me that not all of the former Soviet republics appreciated Russia. My much briefer time in the Baltic countries has taught me that, indeed, the Soviet Union was an extremely vast country with many different peoples, divergent attitudes, religions, languages, cultural traditions, and mores… and no, they certainly weren’t all “happy” to be Soviets.
I did have a basic understanding of this concept before we traveled to Lithuania, but the idea was definitely driven home when I visited museums and churches and looked around the city of Vilnius. Just seeing all of the pro-Ukraine flags, as well as this huge sign atop of a high rise building, was a big clue about how many Lithuanians feel about Russia. (I won’t say all Lithuanians, because I don’t actually know if they all feel like that…)
Putin is definitely not widely esteemed in Vilnius…
Once we had decided to visit Lithuania, I set about making plans. It wasn’t easy, because our trusty dog hotel staff was on vacation when the decision was made. We had to wait for them to come back to work before I could book plane tickets and get the hotel reserved. But once they were back to work and confirmed the dogs were welcome, I booked us five nights in a deluxe room with a balcony at the Grand Hotel Vilnius, Curio Collection by Hilton.
It had been years since I last stayed at a Hilton. I think I chose it because of the location, the fact that it had a pool and hot tub (which I sadly didn’t get to use), and because Bill collects Hilton Honors points. I am a member of Hilton Honors, too, but I had never actually collected any points. When we’ve stayed in Hilton hotels before, it was because Bill did the booking. Then I did some reading and figured Bill wouldn’t be able to get points unless he booked straight from Hilton, which was much more expensive than booking the hotel and flights through Expedia (where I also have a lot of loyalty points). So the booking was under my name.
I also booked business class flights on Lufthansa, because we can afford it, and I prefer to travel in comfort. Business class on flights within Europe isn’t all that special. You get access to the lounge, expedited security screening, a meal and drinks, and no one sits in the middle seat of your row. You also get “priority” baggage handling, and checked bags are included in the price. But the seats on the plane are no different than what you get in economy. You just don’t have to worry about offending a stranger who might be sitting next to you, or vice versa. To be honest, that’s really the number one reason why I try to book business class when I fly.
Once all of that was booked, we waited for the big day– June 18th. I was stoked, but kind of wondering what we were in for… I do love what little I’ve seen of Estonia and Latvia. This break would be a longer look. I was thinking maybe we’d be ambitious and take day trips or something. We didn’t end up doing any day trips, and yet it was still a very educational visit. More on that in the next parts…
Here’s one I made about Fasching, which is going on right now in Germany. I included stories, a photo, and video in which we also got mooned.
This is one of my funnier videos. The last part is about my disgust for people who patronize Lynda Carter (Wonder Woman)…
And here is one I made about buying art in the Czech Republic, and how it relates to our political situation today… It includes a sample of music from the wonderful Charles Bridge Swing Band. Both videos are a bit political… but that’s hard to avoid right now.
We can connect with so many people through art and music…
There was a wine stand last night, but Bill and I almost didn’t go because it looked like it was going to rain. However, because I’ve been way too cooped up lately, we decided it would be a good thing to attend and support the hosts. So we went and enjoyed the somewhat agreeable temperatures, even if the sun was behind clouds. I didn’t even bother to wear a sweater. I didn’t get many photos, because it was a relaxed gathering. We could have brought the dogs with no problem.
Last night’s wine stand was a fairly low key affair, as I think a lot of people are either on vacation due to school holidays, or they had the same idea that it might rain. Nevertheless, we ended up meeting an interesting person last night. She heard us speaking English and came over to ask us if we knew any lawyers who could help her with a problem her “niece” was having. I got the sense that maybe she was actually the “niece”, given how urgent and personally invested she seemed about the issue… which I seem to recall had to do with money, the US military, and local taxation. Bill spoke to her longer than I did, since he knows more about military policies than I do.
In the end, we told her there’s an American lawyer who lives in our village and works in Frankfurt. Maybe she knows someone who can help her with her problem. In fact, she even got up and went to their house last night, but they weren’t home. My guess is that the lawyer and her spouse took their kids on a trip somewhere. We were trying to tell us who the American lawyer is, and another German lady sitting with us spoke up and told her about her in German.
What was especially interesting was that the woman, whose name I didn’t catch, though she gave Bill her former business card, spoke absolutely flawless English. She said she had lived and worked in Washington, DC for a long time. She even knew about Fredericksburg, Virginia, and we had a good laugh, because Bill and I used to live in Fredericksburg 22 years ago, just before and after our wedding. And then I told her that I grew up about 90 miles south of Fredericksburg. Then we had a chuckle about how redneck parts of Virginia still are.
I sensed that maybe she’d married an American and they were now having issues with taxes… or maybe she really does have a niece with that problem. I don’t know. The wine might have made things less clear. She said she no longer works, although she still has business cards. I noticed that it looked like she was wearing a wig, but who knows why… She did say that Breckenheim started the local wine stand tradition some twenty years ago or so.
When it started getting darker and we both needed to pee, we went home to the dogs, who were very excited to see us. Charlie even pulled his bed into the dining room so he could hang out with us in comfort.
We have a short break coming up at the end of the month in Bad Wörishofen, Bavaria. After that, Bill has to go to Mons, Belgium for work. Since it’s right before our 22nd wedding anniversary, and about a four hour drive, he invited me to go with him. So that’s what we will do this year. Go to Belgium so he can work and I can enjoy some museums and beer, then afterwards, book at stay at a nice hotel in Belgium or The Netherlands and celebrate our anniversary.
Facebook has already suggested a lovely looking hotel in Nistelrode, The Netherlands. The hotel is on a golf course. We don’t golf, but we can appreciate the beauty and quiet of golf courses. Maybe we’ll go there, or maybe I’ll something even better. I’ll keep looking.
It’s hard to believe we celebrated our 21st wedding anniversary in Armenia last year. The year has flown by, and a lot has happened. I’m glad we got to go there last year… I’d love to go back again sometime, if the opportunity presents itself. I had meant for us to visit Spain for our anniversary, but Bill’s work schedule won’t accommodate that this year. Maybe we’ll go sometime in the winter.
Featured photo is an aerial view of Sofia, Bulgaria, as we approached courtesy of our Lufthansa flight…
It’s time, once again, for me to write a series about our latest travel adventures. This past trip was short, but very meaningful to me. We visited Sofia, Bulgaria, a place that has stuck in my memories since my first visit, back in 1996. Now… to be frank, it was never my life’s ambition to visit Bulgaria.
As I have explained in other blog posts, I initially visited Bulgaria in 1996, because I was accompanying my friend and Peace Corps colleague, Elaine, on a vacation to Turkey and Bulgaria. I actually had no money for a vacation, so Elaine was kind enough to lend me some cash so I could go with her on our big trip. We traveled via bus from Armenia, which made for big adventures, lots of exhaustion, and many memories that will never be lost.
Armenia was not, and is still not, the easiest country to travel from by land, especially for Americans. The country is surrounded by enemies of Armenia or the United States. In the 90s, flying out of Yerevan was very expensive, kind of scary, and inconvenient. So, as someone who was broke and not particularly travel savvy in the 90s, my choices were pretty limited. In the 90s, lot of us Armenia Peace Corps Volunteers did go to Turkey and Bulgaria. I don’t know if that’s still true today. Today’s Volunteers have more choices when it comes to transportation than we did.
When I went to Bulgaria in 1996, I had just turned 24 years old, and the Iron Curtain had only very recently fallen. Consequently, Sofia was still very “Eastern bloc”. I remember it as “nicer” than Yerevan was, in terms of how the city looked and what was available. Bulgaria wasn’t part of the Soviet Union, after all. But it was still very much emerging from communism, and I don’t remember a lot of businesses or English speakers. I also remember that it was common to see people nodding to say “no”, and shaking their head to say “yes”. While I’m sure this is still a thing in Bulgaria, especially in the countryside, I didn’t see it during this trip as I did in 1996.
In 1996, there was only ONE McDonald’s in Sofia. It was in the center of the city. I used it as a landmark when I took a taxi from some remote part of the city where I’d wandered. The cab driver didn’t speak English, and I don’t speak Bulgarian, but by God, we knew McDonald’s, and that was a good place to meet the guy who was hosting us. Today, that trick wouldn’t work, as Sofia is now littered with McDonald’s restaurants. However, I noticed that almost everyone we spoke to spoke almost perfect English!
Bill went to Sofia in 2008, but he was there for an Army function. Because he was working, he didn’t have much time to check out the city. He brought home an Orthodox icon, which was coupled with the painting I bought on my one trip to Sofia in 1996. Bill said he noticed things were different this visit, too, although maybe the difference wasn’t as striking to him as it was for me.
How did we decide to visit Sofia? It was courtesy of our trusty champagne bucket, which we use when we can’t decide on where to go. This time, we took cities that were offered by Lufthansa’s “surprise flights” option, similar to Eurowings’ (formerly Germanwings) “blind booking” idea, which we’ve done several times.
Instead of booking a surprise flight, and risking weird flight times that would make it hard to board Noyzi reasonably, we just put the city names in the bucket. Initially, Bill drew Dubrovnik, a place I would love to see someday. However, in June, we figured it would be completely overrun with tourists such as ourselves. When Bill made a second draw, Sofia won. So we went to Sofia, from June 7-11. Now, I’m going to write about what happened. I hope you’ll follow along. This series will probably be a short one, since we were only there for a few days, and I spent one of them in bed. More on that later.
Although most of my photos from my Peace Corps days are in storage, I do have a few from that time, including some from Bulgaria. I will try to remember to share them in the coming posts, so readers might get a view of how things have changed… Stay tuned.
Bill just got home from downtown Wiesbaden. He was picking up the two paintings we bought in Armenia and had custom framed. I was wondering where we’d end up putting them, since they’re really nice, and I want them to be easily seen by people who come into our home… not that there are many who do that.
I ended up moving two lamps and four prints to new places. We put one lamp I bought from Overstock.com over ten years ago into a corner where we rarely need lighting. It’s a fake Tiffany style lamp that came with another one, which has a home upstairs in our little used entertainment room. Both are pretty beat up. I’ll probably be replacing them soon. The other lamp that had been in that spot is not ideal for its new place, but will be better suited than the one that was stationed there.
Then I moved four prints by Matylda Konecka, a Polish artist who lives in Edinburgh, to new places. I have a fifth print that, unfortunately, fell off the wall last summer. The frame broke, so we just took it down.
The Armenian paintings are now in a very prominent spot in the living room. I wish the weather weren’t so gloomy, so they’d have more natural light to show them off, but I’m still very pleased with out they turned out. Our living room is looking a bit like a small art gallery now. I’m going to have to find more art for the stairway.
A church in Gyumri…Yeghegnadzor
I also think we might be bringing more art to Kunst-Schaefer for framing in the new year. They do really good work, and we have some original paintings with stories attached to them that deserve better than just being stretched and hung, unframed.
Speaking of art… Bill made a delicious “Dutch Baby” this morning for breakfast. It was his first attempt. I think it turned out nicely! I trained him well. 😉
He says he found the recipe on Bon Appetit’s Web site. It was probably this one…
In other news, Bill ran into a relative of Mitt Romney’s in Wiesbaden. The guy was trying to figure out the parking garage and needed directions to the Market Square. Bill provided his services, but did not let on that he’s an ex Mormon. 😉
Now that I’ve finished writing my blog series on visiting Armenia again, twenty-six years after I finished my Peace Corps service there, it’s time for my obligatory “ten things I learned” post. I like creating these posts because they make me think, and because they’re a lot of fun to write. Also, readers seem to like them, because they’re comprehensive, yet concise. Or, they are as concise as I tend to be, anyway. Brevity is not one of my strong suits.
Armenia has changed a lot since 1997. Even though I spent 27 months there, I still learned new things during our trip. So here goes with ten things I learned in Armenia!
Lights! Unheard of and unseen in the 90s!
10. Yerevan is now a city that doesn’t sleep!
When I lived in Yerevan, things didn’t necessarily stay open all night. There was an energy crisis. Even though it technically ended in 1995, not everyone had 24 hour power until about 1996. So, even though flights would leave and arrive in the wee hours of the mornings, things did close at night. Now, I notice that restaurants and bars stay open very late. You can buy a SIM card 24 hours a day. And there are always lights on at night. That wasn’t how it was when I lived there.
Two different versions of 1000 dram notes…
9. The drams have changed twice since I left!
Armenian drams were introduced in 1993, just after the fall of the Soviet Union. Since I arrived in 1995, I was used to the first version of Armenian drams. Now, the drams have changed their look and denominations twice since I left in 1997. When I left, the biggest bill was 5000 drams (about $12). Now, they go up to 100,000 drams!
Need a ride to Garni and Geghard? You can find one easily!
8. It’s easy to find someone to drive you to Armenia’s most famous sites.
We didn’t take any of the many aspiring drivers up on their offers to take us to Armenia’s most amazing sites, but if we’d wanted to hire a driver, it would have been easy. Our hotel offered drivers for hire, and there were many of them hanging around different parts of the city. It’s no longer necessary to go to the bus station and look for a taxi, minivan, or bus to take you to Sevan or Khor Virap. Most of them have signs in English, too.
7. Speaking of English, it’s EVERYWHERE in Yerevan, now.
I saw so many signs in English. Some of them were hilariously incorrect, but just as many were hilariously witty. Obviously, there’s a movement for people to learn English, just as so many older folks had to learn Russian. I’m sure English is not required as Russian once was, but a lot of people seem to want to learn.
Cheers!
6. Armenia now has some really decent craft beers!
When I lived in Armenia, I used to joke about how bad the beers were from there. I had particularly salty things to say about Kotayk Beer, which when it was made in Armenia, was notoriously rough on the digestive system. Thanks to Dargett, a local craft beer company, you can find some good suds in Yerevan now. Now I wish I could get Dargett in GERMANY, a country well known for its excellent beers. That’s how good it was. You can also find real German beer in Armenia now. And not just the stuff made by InBev, which is a Belgian company that distributes a lot of mass produced beers. Naturally, if wine or fruit juice or even mineral water is your thing, you can find plenty of that, too. And wonderful brandy– the best I’ve ever had anywhere!
5. You can also get a beautiful meal in Yerevan…
When I first arrived in Armenia, there weren’t many restaurants at all. A few popped up while I was a Peace Corps Volunteer, but they tended to have plastic chairs and tables, and served pretty basic stuff. Now, you can get gourmet food in Yerevan… They have fine dining restaurants! And even if you go to a casual place, chances are good what you eat will look beautiful. That was one thing that didn’t change. There’s much more variety now, and some items are better quality, or are just plain available. In the 90s, we tended to eat what we could get, which meant whatever was in season. That no longer seems necessary.
Don’t be afraid to venture inside!
4. Public toilets in Yerevan are now very clean and cost 100 drams to use.
I remember many times having to duck behind bushes to relieve myself, when I lived in Yerevan in the 90s. One time, when I was out with my former language teacher, we went to a porno theater so I could pee. It was actually very clean. But most public facilities in the 90s were pretty disgusting and smelled horrible. I was very pleased to find clean restrooms in most places during our recent visit. The toilet by the Opera House was sparkling clean, well stocked, and cost 100 drams (about 25 cents). Cheap!
No longer a traditional shuka… but at least it has parking.
3. Some historic places have changed forever…
I was sad to see that the historic landmark, the Pak Shuka on Mashtots Avenue, has become a regular supermarket. I would have liked to have taken Bill in there. Ditto for what used to be the GUM, a department store on Abovian Street, and the Hayastan Market (which had changed as I was leaving). But some things are better now. For instance, the eternal flame at Tsitsernakaberd now is a true eternal flame. They leave it burning all the time, instead of just on special occasions. And the door to the Blue Mosque is now very well marked, so you can’t miss it. When I lived in Yerevan, the door to the mosque was very plain, and easy to miss. Northern Avenue is a really nice street that makes it convenient to be a pedestrian, although who knows what happened to the people who lived in the houses that were destroyed so it could be built?
Maybe we can go back and try visiting the Hrazdan Gorge again.
2. Yerevan is very safe, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t creepers there.
We ran into one of them on our wedding anniversary. He was up to no good, and not very subtle about it. However, he was acting this way in broad daylight, which was strange. I don’t know what he was up to, but I didn’t get a good feeling about it. We ended up going a different way than we planned, which worked out fine, and that was the only strange incident. It was a good reminder to always be aware and keep your wits about you. That’s good advice no matter where you go.
I bet this guy is a lot of fun to talk to… He certainly was a good singer!
And finally, 1. Although Yerevan is now a lot more modern than it used to be, and more travel friendly, it’s still very exotic and will be quite interesting to most people… and if you can speak a few words of Armenian, it will open doors for you!
I was happy that some of my old, rusty language skills came back, and I was able to speak enough Armenian to be understood by a lot of the locals. Many of them were delighted when I spoke their language… and quite a few were shocked when it turned out I wasn’t Russian. I know they get more foreigners visiting now, but it’s still not a place that is super high on the tourism list for westerners. So I would absolutely encourage adventure seekers to come visit Armenia. I would especially encourage it now, because Armenians have so much to offer; they do need the tourism drams; and sadly, if a couple of neighboring countries have their way, Armenia might someday cease to exist. So please visit, if I’ve tempted you. You will be very warmly welcomed by most! And be sure to tip 10 percent!
I want to offer special thanks to Stepan, my former student and current friend. He made us feel like FAMILY… and was so kind, welcoming, and generous. Stepan, you made this trip unforgettable, and you showed us the warmth and hospitality that Armenia is known for. It was a vacation like no other, and I will always be so grateful for all you did to make it so. So շատ շնորհակալություն! I hope we can come back again… much sooner than 26 years from now!
We’ve finally reached the end of my Armenian series. What an amazing trip it was! Bill says it was one of the best trips we’ve done together, and we didn’t even go to many of the really cool ancient places for which Armenia is famous. Instead, we met people I knew years ago, saw places where I used to live, ate good food and drank wine, listened to great live music, and enjoyed being somewhere other than continental Europe, for a change. I almost hated to leave!
Bill arranged for a van to pick us up at 2:30 AM, giving us plenty of time for our 5:05 AM non-stop flight to Frankfurt on Lufthansa. We didn’t really need a van, but the guy at the front desk warned Bill that it might be best to order one if we had a lot of luggage. So, there we were– two of us with four bags between us. The driver looked at us and said, “That’s it?” For this, we paid a fare of 17,000 drams. He was a good driver, though, so Bill gave him 20,000 drams and told him to keep the change. The driver was happy, and wished us a pleasant flight.
We went up to the Lufthansa baggage drop, and the woman at the counter eyed the portfolio Bill presented and said she thought it should go in oversize baggage. I asked if it was absolutely necessary, and she asked a colleague, who said it was fine for the portfolio to go through the normal luggage queue. So, with our bags dropped, and our tickets printed, we headed to security. This is where things got a bit traumatic.
I was shocked to see these cartons of cigarettes…Just about every Armenian man smokes. I’m not sure these over the top warnings work. But they are very amusing to see!
I mentioned in my first post in this series that I got groped by an aggressive female security officer. I’m not exactly sure what her problem was, but my problem was that there was a woman holding everybody up, because she had a baby stroller that she was struggling to fold. Instead of stepping aside to deal with the stroller, she was in front of the metal detector, blocking everyone’s egress. I don’t know about you, but when it’s about 3:30 AM, and I haven’t had any coffee, I’m not the friendliest person in the world. But I wasn’t complaining. I wasn’t saying anything or causing a scene. I probably just looked a bit annoyed.
I had gotten out of the habit of flying, thanks to COVID. And I live where advanced security screening is in place. Nowadays, travelers coming through Frankfurt don’t have to take off watches and the like. But Yerevan only has a metal detector. It doesn’t have a scanner. I forgot to take off my watch, and the metal detector went off. The security officer started frisking me, then noticed the watch. I had to put it in a bin and go through the detector again. The thing went off again, probably because there was metal in my shoes and my bra. She started her aggressive frisking, ordering me to put my arms out again and snapping, “I haven’t finished with you yet!” as she ran her hands over my stomach and between my legs. I was getting a bit pissed off, and felt rather violated.
Then she started speaking Russian to me, and I looked her in the eyes and said, very calmly and seriously, in English, “I don’t speak Russian.”
In retrospect, maybe I should have said that in Armenian, which I could have done. It probably would have really disarmed her. But English did the trick. She backed off immediately, and I got my stuff and got out of there. I don’t know if she was truly done harassing me, or if she’d thought I was Russian and was taking out collective Armenian hostility toward me… someone she might have thought was from Russia. In any case, while I understand that security screening at airports is very important, that woman’s hostile demeanor and lack of courtesy didn’t leave me with a great impression. Fortunately, most of the other people I ran into during our trip made up for her inappropriate and obnoxious attitude.
Yerevan’s updated airport is pretty nice, and it has a decent duty free shop that everyone has to walk through on their way into the secure gate area. We looked around for the business class lounge, which it turns out is upstairs. There’s an elevator in the duty free shop, or stairs for those who prefer them. The lounge is for business class or higher travelers using any airline. Those who are waiting there can enjoy snacks and beverages… coffee machines with Russian instructions, beer, wine, sparkling water, and the like. Bill and I had some coffee while we waited. The restrooms have showers in them, and only one toilet. I guess if you need a shower, you can lock the door, and all the other travelers would be out of luck.
A must in an Armenian airport.Even my morning man, Bill, was a bit over it at that hour…Jermuk tastes better than it used to. We drank a lot of it, as well as Bjni.
Bill saw a sign that our flight was boarding, even though it was ahead of the time noted on our tickets. Not wanting to miss Lufthansa’s one weekly flight to Frankfurt, we went down to the gate, where a whole bunch of people were waiting. There were some cute girls in sweats who were wide awake, practicing what appeared to be cheers. I didn’t know Armenia had cheerleaders, and maybe that’s not what they were. But they looked like cheerleaders, and their early morning pep was both amusing and a little irritating.
It took forever for our flight to start boarding. In fact, we didn’t start boarding until some time after the listed boarding time. And business class passengers were boarded later. I guess they were loading the back of the aircraft first, which makes sense. I don’t know why people are so eager to get on the plane, anyway. I think most folks just want to get the whole ordeal over with, nowadays. Flying isn’t the luxe experience it once was.
Bill and I were in the third row. As soon as we sat down, an American guy took the seat behind me. He was sitting with a British guy who kept calling him “my brother”. They didn’t know each other before they were seated in the same row, but boy, did they act like they were buddies. The two of them immediately launched into a loud and obnoxious conversation about where they lived (both in England, near or in London), what they did for a living (retired orthopedic surgeon who supposedly worked with US military special ops, and a presenter for the BBC), what kind of luxury cars they drove or hoped to own (don’t remember that part), and how they get their news (American dude preferred reading the news to watching TV, because TV news is too biased). It went on for awhile, and I was worried I was going to have to listen to them blather for five hours.
Meanwhile, the lady sitting in front of me appeared to be Armenian. She had a pretty girl with her who looked to be about 13 or so. The pretty girl went alone to the back of the aircraft, while (mom?) sat down in front of me. I caught her casting a furtive look at the two chatterboxes behind Bill and me, who were continuing to run their mouths about their luxurious lifestyles in England. We were all in on their conversation, whether we wanted to be or not! I asked Bill if he had any earbuds, since I didn’t bring my headphones with me. He misunderstood and pulled out ear plugs. Fortunately, he also had earbuds, and I tested them to see if they’d work on my tablet. They did, and I heaved a sigh of relief, although I hate wearing earbuds. They are usually too big for my ears and don’t stay in well.
We took off, and the lady in front of me immediately reclined. I didn’t mind it, though, because I had plenty of space in front of me. I’m short, anyway, so there’s usually ample leg room for me. Once we were in the air, I had to pee really badly. But the pilot kept the seatbelt light on for ages. Bill finally got up after about an hour or so, and asked when they were going to turn off the light so I could go to the bathroom. The flight attendants said it would only be a few more minutes. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the back. A woman came up to speak to the flight attendants, and they went to the back to see what was wrong.
A few minutes later, the seatbelt light finally went off, and with a groan of immense gratitude, I went to relieve myself. Meanwhile, the flight attendants were asking for medical personnel to come forward. The guy behind me got up, as did an Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor from Wales. There were many Welsh people in Yerevan during our visit, because of football. I’m guessing that’s why the ENT doctor was there. Bill and I were a little afraid the flight might need to be diverted, since the flight attendants seemed so concerned.
But then a few minutes later, the ortho guy sat down again, and told his new British friend that there was a lady back there who had neglected to take her medication and was having some kind of medical issue related to that. He went on a little more about the woman, then said that he’d let the ENT doctor from Wales handle the emergency, since he’d retired from medicine in ’08. He didn’t look old enough to retire, but based on what he was loudly telling everyone in business class, he had done very well for himself and was now living a life of leisure. Anyway, he did mention that the woman would be alright. So much for healthcare privacy, but there is no HIPAA in the friendly skies. 😉
Then the American “doctor man” started talking about the wonders of Georgian brandies and his visit to the Genocide Memorial, as if he knew what he was talking about. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes… but in my defense, it was very early in the morning; I was still a bit traumatized by the aggressive frisking; and I’d already been listening to those two guys ramble on for over an hour.
Finally, the flight attendants served breakfast. We had a choice between sweet and savory. I chose sweet, and Bill chose savory. It was too dark to take a photo, although I don’t remember the food being inedible. I usually stick with a roll and some water or orange juice, anyway.
We landed in Frankfurt at about 7:00 AM. When we went through passport control, I was confronted with a handsome young German guy in a uniform. He was markedly more pleasant than the Armenian officials had been. He started leafing through my passport and said, “How long have you been in Germany?”
I said, “About nine years.” Bill was standing behind me, rolling his eyes.
“Do you have a residency permit?” the guy asked with a surprisingly flirtatious smile.
“I have a SOFA card in the back of the passport.” I responded.
The guy found it, noted that it wasn’t expired, and sent me on my way. When it was Bill’s turn, he said, “That’s my wife.” The guy stamped his passport and let him go.
It always amazes me when border control guards are confronted by Americans who are very casual about approaching them. They don’t see a residency permit, and ask how long we’ve been here. We tell them “SOFA City, sweetheart…” They roll their eyes and let us go. Wouldn’t you eventually just look for the SOFA card before asking about a residency card?
SOFA, for those who don’t know, stands for “Status of Forces Agreement”. It’s basically like a special residency card for Americans who work for the US government or military, as well as their families. It allows us unlimited entrance and exit privileges from our host countries, as well as legal residency, and some other privileges. But it’s not quite the same thing as a German residency card.
We made our way to the baggage carousel. I noticed there weren’t too many people there, which probably means a lot of people were on their way to the USA or England… or maybe somewhere else in continental Europe. Having flown to Yerevan from the USA before, I didn’t envy them. But I would rather fly from Yerevan to the USA than the other way around. It gets earlier when you go west, so you don’t tend to feel so disoriented.
When I flew back to the USA after my Peace Corps assignment, I had been traveling by train around Europe for a month. It wasn’t nearly as traumatic as when I went to Yerevan in 1995. Well, it wasn’t as traumatic until 1997, when I met my father at Dulles Airport, and he treated me like something he’d scraped off his shoe, and told me he was going into rehab for his alcoholism the next day. Don’t get me wrong. I was glad he was getting treatment, but he sure spoiled my carefully cultivated “coming home” fantasy that was two years in the making.
After we found our bags, we were looking for that portfolio with our paintings that Bill had worked so hard to acquire the day prior to our journey. A German airport employee guy came around with it and seemed to know that it belonged to us. The Armenian lady at the Lufthansa desk had, sure enough, sent it to oversized baggage, even though it only weighed about two kilos and was flat. I guess it was too cumbersome for the regular baggage drop.
Bill and I easily found a taxi, which took us back to our humble abode in Breckenheim. The weather was cold and drizzly, just as it usually is in Germany at this time of year. I was glad to be back home, although we really had a great time in Armenia. It already feels like a dream, though… Like I can’t believe I went back there and felt so very comfortable. I still know the city of Yerevan like the back of my hand. Obviously, we will have to go back and explore some more. The good news is, now that Bill has had a taste of Armenian hospitality, he’s ready for a new adventure!
So ends my Armenian blow by blow blog series. I just have one more post to make, and that would be my highly entertaining “ten things I learned” list. Hopefully, some folks will read that. I learned an awful lot on this trip. So, by all means, stay tuned if you’re interested…
Saturday, November 18th was our last full day in Armenia. I had some mixed emotions about it. On one hand, we’d had a really good time in Armenia, and there are still some things I want to show Bill. The weather was surprisingly mild; we had several nice, sunny days, and I had a feeling Germany wouldn’t be quite as temperate.
But, on the other hand, I was really missing our street dog, Noyzi. Yerevan has all these sweet, adorable street dogs, now. Unlike many of the ones I remembered from the 90s, the ones who are now in Yerevan seem gentle and wise. They made me miss our dog from Kosovo, and reminded me that I want another one. I also wanted to do laundry. It’s not that I enjoy doing laundry. I just like wearing clean clothes, and I was running out of clean underwear. 😉
I was still a bit sore and tired from our long walk to Tsitsernakaberd. And Bill was still very worried about the paintings we bought from the guy from Ashtarak. He had done some research and found an art supplies store at the Rossia Mall near the Zorovar Andranik metro station, which was just one stop away from Republic Square. So, after breakfast, we headed that way, first stopping by the art sellers by the Opera House. I was hoping to run into the guy from Ashtarak again, because I wanted to buy his Ararat painting. I might have been inspired by the clear sight of Ararat that morning. It finally came out in full glory on our last day.
Mount Ararat is in the house!View from our hotel balcony.
Unfortunately, the art guy wasn’t there on Saturday morning, so we headed back toward the Vernissage, cutting through Northern Avenue and Abovian Street, then using the underpass by the Republic Square metro station. I thought maybe we’d shop at the Vernissage again, especially since there were a lot more sellers there. But, as we walked, my body cried out in painful protest. I was hurting!
A photo at a major confluence of Yerevan roads…English is everywhere!Entertainment is abundant in Yerevan!Here’s an unexpected sight!Northern AvenueI’m sure the Christmas decorations are already up now.
With every step, I got crankier… and when we were confronted with the traffic on Khandjian Street, I got downright pissy. To get across the street safely, we had to use one of the overpasses, which required us to walk up steps, go across a bridge, and then walk down again. I did not want to walk up or down any more steps.
The overpasses, by the way, didn’t exist when I lived in Yerevan. We’d either use the underpasses, some of which were pretty awful, or we’d take our lives in our hands and dash across the street. But Yerevan now has pedestrian lights and crosswalks at most intersections, and from what I understand, people are expected to use them, or risk getting a ticket. Unfortunately, there was no easy way to cross Khandjian Street directly from the Vernissage, so we used the overpass. My old body complained the whole way, and so did my mouth. 😉
Obligatory Vernissage shots…Queen BurgerIt ain’t Burger King; that’s for sure.
We made our way toward Zorovar Andranik, passing an amusement park and Queen Burger, a notoriously “bad” fast food place that opened in 1996. I actually remember when that place first opened. It had very new and modern looking equipment, to include fountain drink dispensers, and an actual “burger” on the roof (since removed after renovation). But I guess they couldn’t get fountain drinks in Yerevan back then, because I remember I could see through the windows that they had plastic liter bottles of Coca Cola sitting under the dispensers. The restaurant has been expanded and renovated since 1996, but it still gets pretty terrible reviews on TripAdvisor and Facebook. I have never eaten there myself, so I can’t confirm or deny the veracity of the terrible reviews. Somehow, they manage to stay in business, anyway.
Near Queen Burger is an underpass I remember well. In the 90s, it was lined with people selling stuff. There are still some people selling things in the underpass– mostly cheap purses, sunglasses, and cell phone cases. But then on the other side is the Rossia Mall, which was built in 2016. If I hadn’t been so exhausted and sore, I might have been more excited. In the 90s, the area where the mall now stands was basically a big lot where people set up stalls and sold food, booze, and various other odds and ends. I remember shopping there occasionally, when I was in that part of the city. Now, there’s a mall.
I was rapidly losing patience with Bill, who was trying to figure out which door to enter. There was a department store that was obviously not what he was looking for, then we had to climb more steps to enter the main part of the mall. It wasn’t a very big mall, and it was crowded with stores. We went up an escalator into a store that was selling a lot of luggage.
A surreal feeling came over me as I took in the scene. I was in an actual shopping mall in Yerevan! But it still wasn’t as strange to me as the sight of the water park. I still have vivid memories of people living in Yerevan who had no running water and had to leave their taps on, in the hopes that they could fill their bathtub and water bottles in the middle of the night. Now, Yerevan has an actual water park! I wonder if that means that kids stay out of the fountains in the summer, now. Probably not, since it doesn’t cost anything to play in the fountains. 😉
Mission accomplished.
Finally, we found the art supply store. It was tucked in a corner, and pretty much overflowing with stuff for sale. The store’s space was small, but they had a lot of inventory. In fact, there was so much inventory that it was kind of hard to walk through there. We had to look for several minutes to find the art portfolios. A couple of women working at the store noticed us and followed, while the male cashier seemed completely disinterested. I’m not sure if they were running security, or if they were just curious about the obvious foreigners.
Bill and I ignored the gawking women, and searched through the portfolios. Bill finally found one that looked large enough to accomodate our paintings. He paid for our item and we walked out of the mall. I looked around some more for any sign of the large market that used to be there. I saw no evidence of it, but the huge apartment building that was there in 1996 was still there in all its ugly, Soviet era glory. I’ve seen that building in a lot of pictures. It really is impressive in its brutal Soviet look. We made our way to the crosswalk and I said, “If we head this way on Tigran Mets, we’ll end up at Republic Square.”
Originally, I had thought maybe we’d go to the Vernissage and look for another painting. But I was just too tired, and too testy… and my body was over all the walking. I didn’t feel like trying to converse in Armenian anymore, or explaining why I know ANY Armenian. I didn’t want to haggle with anyone, either. So we headed back, which gave me the chance to show Bill yet another major Yerevan street I used to know.
We crossed the street from the mall, and I pointed out a building that I remembered from my last weekend in Yerevan in 1997. There was a French charity called Saberatours that was bringing mail to Armenians via France. Up until a few weeks prior, we Peace Corps Volunteers had enjoyed diplomatic pouch privileges. But, as Armenia’s postal system improved, the privileges were taken away. The trouble was, I had plans to go to Europe after my service was finished, and I bought a Eurail ticket. I needed to get the ticket before I got to Europe. So I used the Saberatours service, and my Eurail ticket got to me just in the nick of time. The building where I got my ticket was historic, too. It was the government building where Aram Manukian had declared independence in May 1918.
One last shot of Queen Burger (snicker).Everybody is in on the act!They’re putting up the tree.
We reached Republic Square, where I noticed workers were putting up Christmas decorations. I’ve seen the huge Christmas tree they now put up in the middle of the square in photos. When I lived in Yerevan, Christmas wasn’t a big deal. They celebrated it on January 6th, rather than December 25th. New Year’s was the big holiday. Today, I’m not sure what Armenians do for Christmas. I have noticed that, like many European countries, Armenian now has Christmas markets. Those were NOT a thing in the 90s. But it seems that a lot of countries have taken Germany’s lead and offer the festive stalls selling arts, crafts, and food. Google tells me that religious Armenians still celebrate Christmas on January 6th, but maybe some people do it on the 25th, and have Santa come and all that other shit… 😉
We decided to take a short rest before venturing out again. Our room hadn’t been made up yet, even though it was afternoon. I used the time to upload photos and do some writing. Bill used it to pack, and arrange for a cab in the middle of the night. I think we were a bit tired of sightseeing.
At mid afternoon, we decided to try one last restaurant we’d noticed… Dors Craft Beer and Kitchen, which was just around the corner from Paris Hotel Yerevan. Like just about all of the other places we noticed in Yerevan, Dors Craft Beer and Kitchen was selling Dargett craft beers. That was fine with me. On our way out of the room, the housekeeper asked me in Armenian (or Russian–I don’t remember) if we’d like our room cleaned. We said sure. At that point, it didn’t matter. We’d be checking out at about 2:30 AM, anyway.
Cheese sticksOatmeal StoutPork and chicken skewersA thought provoking sign in the ladies room…Thoughtful accommodations for women
After we visited Dors Craft Beer and Kitchen, we headed back to the hotel and tried to rest before our super early departure. More on that in the next post!
After our weird wedding anniversary, which was saved by amazing Armenian brandy, excellent service, live jazz, and delicious desserts, I was determined to show Bill two areas in Yerevan where I once lived. The beauty of this plan is that I lived near two major landmarks in the city, Barekamutsyun metro station, and Tsitsernakaberd, otherwise known as the Armenian Genocide Memorial. The memorial is also right next to the Sports and Concert Complex, which is a delightfully Soviet looking building. It looks a bit like a spaceship!
November 17th, 2023 was a nice morning, weatherwise. We had sunshine, and I could even see Mount Ararat trying to come out from behind the clouds. So, as we drank coffee in the rooftop restaurant, I proposed walking to Tsitsernakaberd. It really is a place that no visitor to Armenia should miss.
We could have taken a cab, or even the metro, to ease the physical burden on our bodies. But, because we had limited time left in Yerevan, and I wanted to show Bill some places along Marshall Bagramyan Avenue, we decided to walk. I knew we were going to be exhausted at the end of it… and we were. But, the journey was well worth the pain.
Below are a few shots of Ararat from the rooftop restaurant, as well as a few ads. Imagine, Tex Mex and KFC in Yerevan! Air conditioning and hot wings! Unthinkable in the 90s! And Charents– that’s a familiar name to any Peace Corps Armenia Volunteer.
The above photos, except for the ones of Ararat, were taken on Mashtots Avenue.
At last, we got to the big intersection where Marshall Bagramyan Avenue meets Mashtots and Sayat Nova Avenues. We took a short rest in the park near the Opera House, where old men smoked, drank coffee, and played Nardi (Backgammon) and Chess as they sold art. Then, I gathered up all my gumption and started walking, pointing out places of interest.
Marshall Bagramyan is a pretty important avenue in Yerevan. When I was a Peace Corps Volunteer, it was where the US Embassy was located. The Embassy had a restaurant, and I went there a few times to teach the Armenian ladies who worked there how to cook American style food. Of course, they insisted on putting their own Armenian spin on it! If I recall correctly, I think their “spins” on my recipes usually involved “matsun” (yogurt).
The Embassy also showed movies, offered a laundry service, and had a bar and a library. I spent more time there as a Volunteer than my country director would have liked, and if I could do it differently today, I think I would. However, in my defense, I mostly interacted with the Armenians who worked there. 😉 Also, we were told in training that we were allowed to go there, and we were even kind of encouraged to go. I didn’t actually do so until about halfway through training.
The US Embassy has since moved to a huge complex near the Ararat Brandy Company. Stepan told me that they had considered moving the Peace Corps office to that complex. How’s that for irony? I’m glad they didn’t do that, as now I understand that the Embassy mission must be separate from the Peace Corps mission. I didn’t understand that in the 90s, because I was 23 years old and didn’t know anything about the world. 😉 I know better at age 51. Yerevan was a very different place in the 90s, though, and there weren’t many Americans in the country then. And when you live abroad, especially in a place where conditions can be rough, you tend to flock with your own kind.
A place for writers!Chekov School… I believe there was a PCV who taught there for awhile.The former US Embassy…This was attached to the building, and where the restaurant and bar were.This is now the headquarters for a Christian missionary organization.Parliament building. Bill gave me a dirty look when I took this photo. He never clocks out of being a soldier.This is a nice bus, but I took this photo because it’s stuffed with people… just like I remember Armenian buses to be.American University of ArmeniaA huge hole where a building was demolished. Something new is going up.An Argentinian school. It was so when I lived in Armenia, too.Cats enjoying the kindness of strangers.
Marshall Bagramyan Avenue is also where a number of other embassies are, or once were located. It’s where the Armenian Parliament building is, the Armenian President’s residence, the turn off for Proshyan Street (which we used to call Khorovatz Street) and where the American University of Armenia is. The Marshall Bagramyan metro stop is there, as well as the turn off to Orbeli Brothers Street. I used to walk up and down Marshall Bagramyan Avenue all the time, especially to visit AUA, where I would check email in their computer lab. As for Proshyan Street, we called it “Khorovatz Street” because there were a lot of khorovatz restaurants there in the 90s. I never ate there, though, because I never had money or an Armenian boyfriend. 😉
If you’re Indian and need a place, have a look! I did notice a lot of Indians living in Yerevan now.
At the end of Marshall Bagramyan Avenue, you reach the Barekamutsyun (բարեկամություն friendship) Metro station. When I first got to Yerevan, this station was also called дружба (Druzhba). The canned announcements on the metro were done in Armenian and Russian, and they used both names for the station. The signage in the metro stations were also in Russian and Armenian. Soon after my arrival, they took down the Russian signage and stopped announcing in Russian. I noticed during last week’s trip that a lot of signs around Yerevan were in English and Armenian, with only a few in Russian. We didn’t ride the metro last week, so I don’t know if they’re now doing announcements in English, or if it’s just in Armenian. However, I can probably still recite verbatim the Armenian announcements on the metro!
That was the Hayastan Market. When I lived near there, it was easier to get a photo…But now there’s an overpass…I lived in the building where the service center is… But when I lived there, that service center sold yogurt, stinky cheese, and other dairy products. It was very Soviet.
I used to live in a building on Kasyan Street, which connects to the underground shopping area and underpass that leads to the metro station. Since I left there, they’ve put in an overpass, which Stepan says is a vast improvement. Before the overpass was built, people would get confused at the intersection, because there was traffic coming from all directions. Barekamutsyun is a busy area, and not particularly attractive. But I liked living there, as it was convenient to good shopping and not too far from my school. My apartment was owned by the Peace Corps doctor’s brother, who had moved to Ukraine. He decided to sell the apartment during the late summer of 1996, so I had to move.
Just across Kochar Street, which is the street I walked on to get to school, there was the Hayastan Market, which was kind of like a shuka (market). Now, it’s a grocery store. It was actually turned into one before I left in 1997. I used to go there all the time for powdered milk, flour, and sugar. 😉 My first year, we couldn’t get fresh milk, so I learned to tolerate the powdered kind (yuck).
An Armenian billboard on Kievyan Street.These next photos were taken of the Hrazadan Gorge from Kievyan Bridge.There’s a stairway that will take you from the bridge to the road below. Follow it, and you will eventually find yourself at Mashtots Avenue. It’ll take some time, though.
We turned left on Kievyan Street, which would take us to the memorial and the last area where I lived when I was a Peace Corps Volunteer. Kievyan Street lasts until you cross the Kievyan Bridge, which overlooks the Hrazdan Gorge. Then, on the other side of the bridge, you’re on Leningradian Street, which is the street I lived on for the last nine months or so of my service.
That apartment was owned by a former Peace Corps employee who had gone to Hungary to study. Although it wasn’t as convenient as the last apartment was, I paid twice as much to live there. It was still a lot less than a US apartment would have been, but it was a lot of money for me. So, I continued teaching business English at American non-governmental organizations for rent money. Technically, we weren’t supposed to do that (and I wasn’t the only one), but it was the only way to cover rent costs without starving.
When it was time to close my service, that former Peace Corps employee accused me of not paying her father for a month I lived there. Of course it wasn’t true, and I was fucking PISSED that she made that accusation. I was even more PISSED that she and her dad ambushed me one Friday night when I was out with friends. They had let themselves into the apartment and were in there waiting for me, smoking cigarettes, when I returned there at 10 o’clock at night.
For about a week before that confrontation, my former landlady and her son would let themselves into the apartment to get some of their things… and they helped themselves to my food, while leaving dirty dishes for me to clean up. I had a full on panic attack in front of my former landlady and her dad, which made them uncomfortable enough to get them to leave. I think she thought she could shake me down for an extra month’s rent, but she made me so very angry that I went on the warpath. And when I handed over the keys to her apartment, I had Peace Corps representatives there to make sure they didn’t try to rip me off for another month’s rent.
I have mentioned a few times in this blog and my main one that I was angry and burned out at the end of my service. This situation is one of the reasons why I was so angry. This woman knew what the Peace Corps’ mission was, and I think she knew very well that her father had been paid for every month I was in that apartment. She was also getting much more money for that place than any Armenian would have ever paid. She actually accused me of spending the money I had earned for rent money… (how did I know that her dad hadn’t spent the money?) Naturally, I was very hurt and offended… but she mistook my sensitivity and quickness to cry for weakness. She fucked around and found out… which makes me kind of proud of myself. Years later, I found that same resolve not to be screwed over by our former German landlady, who made the same mistake and tried the same shit with Bill and me. That time, we sued… and we won!
Sorry… I really don’t mean to be negative, but I did write at the beginning of this serious I was going to be honest. And thinking about that situation still really pisses me off, because it’s a bad memory that developed at a time when I should have been feeling very accomplished. I had made it through 27 tough months, and I should have been elated and focused on success and plans for the future. Instead, I felt like someone was trying very hard to take advantage of me and paint me as a person I am definitely not. Moreover, it was hard to fathom that someone who had worked for an organization that was dedicated to doing good things in her country wanted me to leave with bad memories. And this was all over a lousy $100 (which was a lot of money to Armenians at the time– and too much rent for her apartment)!
I don’t cry much at all anymore. I noticed that after I took antidepressants, I no longer felt the need. But when I was in the Peace Corps, I cried a lot… Some people think that people who cry easily are wimps or pushovers. Well, that was never true in my case, and if you cross my red line, you will soon find out how strong and resolved I can be. And she certainly did, because I was determined… and I totally went on the fucking warpath! I still get a surge of energy just thinking about that, 26 years later!
Anyway… enough about that story. That idiot doesn’t deserve any more of my precious mental energy. 😉 On with our visit to the memorial, which was very moving, even if we were pretty tired by the time we got there. I used to take a side road to get the memorial, and back in the 90s, when I was younger and fitter, I’d even go jogging in the park there. But now that I’m older and fatter, we decided to walk up the steps at the sports complex. The side road appeared to be undergoing construction. Below are some scenes from the walk up the steps and the park at the memorial. Bill and I were both delighted to find a զուգարան (zugaran– toilet– one of my favorite Armenian words) up there. It even had toilet paper!
Mount Ararat in the distance…Ararat!A view of the memorial from a distance.A military band was there.Views of the city…
It turned out the Georgian Minister of Defense was going to be visiting the memorial on the 17th, so there were a lot of police there. There was also a military band, and a group of soldiers with rifles. Bill was fascinated, of course. Meanwhile, I went into the memorial, which was so moving. A woman was cleaning the memorial, with its eternal flame. Some people had left bouquets. When I lived in Yerevan in the 90s, the flame was only lit on special occasions, such as Genocide Memorial Day, on April 24th. Today, it burns constantly, and there’s beautiful music piped in. I felt a lump in my throat as I took it all in.
Half a minute at the memorial…View from inside…Sports complex
Mount Ararat visited, too.
After we visited the memorial and gawked at the soldiers and musicians, we started the long walk back to our hotel. By the time we reached Tsitsernakaberd, we’d already done about four miles. But we got a second wind, and headed back down the hill, across the bridge, and into cheap Armenian culinary heaven…
On our way to the memorial, I had noticed a group of Armenian restaurants just on the other side of the bridge. One restaurant, in particular, smelled really good, and experience has taught me that when a restaurant smells good, one should pay a visit. So we did. The place we went was kind of a “fast food” place of sorts. They had table service, but the food was cheap and quick. Bill and I both had delicious shawarmas with Coca Cola… It cost about 3 euros each for these huge “wraps”. I couldn’t even finish mine. I remembered having similar lavash wraps when I lived in Yerevan as a Volunteer, but I don’t think they were called shawarmas. They were also even cheaper. I think I paid about 200-300 drams back then– (50-75 cents).
A happy man… I have to admit, it was really good!
After we ate, we got back to our long walk. I decided on a slight shortcut on Orbeli Brothers Street, which cut out Barekamutsyun and put us on Marshall Bagramyan Avenue. I remember using that street in 1997, and at that time, I think it was where the Russian Embassy was. I remember the flags and the stern signage with lots of exclamation points. But the embassy has since moved, even though I did notice some stern Russian signage. We passed a high school, which didn’t really exist in the 90s. Most schools handled all levels, which only went to “tenth form”. Now they go to 12th grade.
We kept walking, even though we were tired and sore. My Apple Watch was going crazy with all the unusual activity! Below are a few photos I took along the way, including signs from the Moldovan Embassy and a medical clinic that is now well advertised. It was probably there in the 90s, but I don’t remember it.
Armenian hospitalNice to see this!
By the time we got back to the hotel, we’d walked over eight miles! Luckily, we had the bottle of wine the food and beverage manager sent to us to help kill the pain until dinner in the hotel restaurant. And when we arrived there at 7 o’clock, Narek, the awesome waiter who had served us the night before, was ready to help us enjoy a great evening of live Latin styled music and more wine… of course! Armenia is a wonderful place to be if you love music.
Salmon and mashed potatoes for me…Trout for Bill…And lots of Armenian wine!Dessert!
It may be a good thing we didn’t go to the rooftop restaurant for dinner earlier. Otherwise, I might not have gone anywhere else. It was never crowded; the food was good; and the music was wonderful. I’d book this hotel again just for the live music in the restaurant. It was awesome!
A sample of the live music!
After dinner, we were understandably tired, so we headed back to the room and went to bed. The next day, Saturday the 18th, would be our last day in Yerevan. Stay tuned to my next post for the story of that last day…
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