art, Champagne Bucket trips

The last full day in Hayastan… part ten of our Armenian adventure!

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.

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!

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. 😉

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. 😉

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.

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.

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!

Standard
Champagne Bucket trips

Pictures from our 21st anniversary… part eight of our Armenian adventure!

As I mentioned in today’s earlier post, I’ve already written about the weirdness that occurred on our 21st wedding anniversary. I did a pretty good job covering that day, so rather than repeating myself, I’m just going to share more photos from our anniversary. I have already written the story, probably because I was a bit freaked out and upset, and writing helps me calm down and focus. But I didn’t share very many pictures at all in that rant… So I’ll share some photos and video with this post, with minimal commentary. If you want to read the gory details about our messed up anniversary, click here.

We tried to cross the street to go to the brandy factory, but the light wasn’t working properly. We got a green light, but cars still sped through the intersection. It wasn’t safe to cross there, so we walked the road down past the stadium.

A few hours after we went to “The Garden”, we had dinner at a highly recommended place called Sherep. It was just across Amiryan Street, steps away from our hotel. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a great experience for us, although maybe we would have liked it if it hadn’t been our anniversary, and if we’d ordered beer instead of wine… Again, you can read the juicy details in last week’s post, linked above.

I should have probably waited to write about our anniversary, but I was so aggravated and pissed off that I had to get it out of my system. But I was right when I wrote at the end of that post that the next day would be better. It was a prophetic statement. And even though it was a “weird day”, it certainly could have been much worse. At least we managed to walk several miles, and we made a friend in the food and beverage manager at the hotel.

A complimentary bottle of wine sent to us by the food and beverage manager, when I told her it was our anniversary… Such a nice and welcoming gesture!
Standard
Champagne Bucket trips

Rainy Wednesday at the Vernissage, and a meaningful chat with a waitress… part seven of our Armenian adventure!

On Wednesday morning, it was still a bit rainy outside. We decided to eat breakfast inside the hotel, instead of in the outdoor dining area of the rooftop restaurant. As usual, there was a good spread and plenty of different items to choose from, although I tended to stick with the same things most days.

Our plan was to visit the Vernissage, which in the 90s used to only run on the weekends. The “flea market” is still held near the metro station for Republic Square (Հանրապետության Հրապարակ), just like it used to be back when I lived in Yerevan. However, now there are long, permanent stalls set up, so vendors can enjoy protection from the rain and sun. There are also a couple of actual stores on the grounds that sell everything from art, to khorovats grill sets, to chess sets.

My goal was to look for more art for our house and some toys for Bill’s grandchildren. I also wanted to show Bill around this market, which is a great place to go for souvenirs, even if some of what is sold there is legitimate crap. The Vernissage is often kind of festive, although it’s probably best to visit on the weekends, when there are a lot more vendors and things to choose from. In retrospect, it was probably better that we went on Wednesday, because by Saturday, I was pretty tired, cranky, and sore from all the walking we did.

As we walked through the stalls, people encouraged us to stop for a look. I said to one woman, “Heto, k’gam.” (later, I will come), but that kind of turned out to be a lie. Nevertheless, we did find a few things. I bought a couple of supposedly cashmere scarves that the saleslady assured me I could put in the washing machine. They were the same design, but different colors. I’ll probably wear them when I make YouTube videos. I like to wear shawls and scarves over my nightgowns, so I don’t have to change clothes! 😉

Our second stop was where we bought a few magnets for our fridge, and to send to Bill’s daughter. Next to the magnet lady was a very friendly guy who was selling coffee grinders and Armenian coffee pots. He was laying it on thick, too, even showing us a pot that had a stamp that read “USSR”. I asked him if it was old, and he said it wasn’t. Hmmm… Well, I guess I can’t blame him for trying.

I’m not sure that stamping USSR on stuff is the best way to make a sale, since the USSR wasn’t really known for putting out high quality products, unless you’re discussing booze. Naturally, they were both surprised I could speak some Armenian, although he was actually talking to Bill a lot. Bill bought a pot and a grinder, and the friendly coffee pot guy threw in a “free” spoon. Besides, if the coffee pot had been produced in the Soviet Union, I would have expected the stamp to read CCCP. Maybe we should have bought one just for the laughs.

We had to stop at that point, because Bill needed to get more drams, and it was soon getting close to lunchtime. So we brought our items back to the room and walked around the block behind the hotel. There, we found a gastropub called Bambak.

Bambak had a relatively simple menu and offered interesting dishes. I really enjoyed the music, which one of the waiters said was courtesy of Spotify. I don’t use Spotify myself, but maybe it’s time I got with the times. I did a lot of Shazamming while we were dining. Bill had beef cheeks with mashed potatoes. I had a bruschetta with poached eggs and smoked salmon. I liked the way the eggs were presented. They almost looked like hinkalis.

By the time we finished lunch, the sun was coming out. We decided to go back to the Vernissage to look for locally made toys for Bill’s grandchildren. I had noticed one stall that offered wooden toys and matryoshka dolls. We stopped there and met a guy named Aram who sold us a wooden car, a wooden train, and a pretty matryoshka doll. We also bought a couple of artsy looking mugs from a different vendor, since we collect them from the places we visit. Aram was really working the sale, and he was very nice.

Unfortunately, on our way back to Germany, one of the wheels came off the wooden car. I don’t feel too upset about it, though, because it kind of reminds me of what life in Armenia could be like, back in the day! Bill will get some wood glue and fix it before we send it to Utah.

Stepan had told us about Dargett craft beers, and its restaurant on Aram Street. Since we love craft beers, Bill and I decided that Dargett was a must visit. After a short rest at the hotel, we went there and proceeded to try a bunch of different Armenian “suds”. Beer is served in smaller glasses in Armenia than in Germany. That makes it easier to try all kinds of different stuff. I loved the classic rock they were playing in Dargett and the laid back atmosphere. The staff looked like they enjoyed their jobs and working together. We stayed awhile, and later ordered some snacks to carry us over until the morning.

Last week, when we visited Dargett, I wrote about the waitress we talked to as we were paying. She had noticed my hilarious Armenian skills and struck up a conversation. She knew about the Peace Corps, having grown up in Kapan, a southern city in Armenia. Her father had lived in Baku, Azerbaijan for 35 years and had to move back to Armenia, where he worked as a chef. She had done well in school and was twice invited to participate in the FLEX Program, which would have allowed her to spend a year at an American high school. This is the same program Stepan’s daughter did at a high school in Washington State. Her parents would not let her go, though, so she moved to Yerevan and now works as a food and beverage manager at a hotel, and waits tables at Dargett. She said she was 23 years old, and life in Armenia was hard.

Of course, I wouldn’t say being 23 is easy for a lot of people, even in the United States. On the other hand, when I was 23, I also lived in Yerevan! I didn’t have an easy time as a 23 year old in Yerevan, either. My heart went out to her. She said she dreams of living in Europe. I can’t blame her for that. Talking to her was a reminder that life is still not easy in Yerevan, even though it’s obviously more comfortable there than it used to be. I was also reminded that some people don’t have passports that allow them to travel as easily as a US passport does.

I guess I can’t blame the young woman’s parents for not wanting her to go to the United States. I’m sure, to a lot of people, the USA doesn’t look that great anymore. Her parents might have been worried about anything from Donald Trump’s influence to school shootings. School shootings, in particular, seem like a minor risk… until your child is at a school where one happens. Anyway, I don’t even want to go back to the United States myself, and I am a native. So I can definitely empathize… and I hope things get better for her. Her English is impeccable, which will already take her far.

We walked back to the hotel at about 9:00 or so, ready to go to bed. The next day would be our 21st wedding anniversary… which I have already written about, but I’ll do it again in the next post, since I have lots of photos to share.

Standard
caves, Champagne Bucket trips, churches

Garni, Geghard, and good friends… part three of our Armenian adventure!

After our first breakfast in the rooftop restaurant at Paris Hotel Yerevan, Bill and I decided to take our first walk around Republic Square. Stepan had already contacted me to let me know that he and his daughter wanted to take us to Garni and Geghard, and then out for khorovatz (Armenian BBQ). I was excited about the prospect of visiting Garni and Geghard, as they are places that anyone who comes to Armenia should see. In fact, I believe they were the first places my group visited when we arrived in 1995. I was also VERY excited about the prospect of having Armenian BBQ, because it is delicious, and not that easy to find if you’re not in the country.

As we strolled around Republic Square (Հանրապետության հրապարակ, Hanrapetut′yan hraparak), which is considered the center of Yerevan, I pointed out to Bill places of interest. There was Hotel Armenia/the Marriott, which takes up one corner of the square. On the side of the building is a bank, that was once Midland Bank out of the United Kingdom. I remember that was where the very first ATM machine in the country was installed. Midland Bank is now long gone, but there’s still an ATM there. Bill made use of it and got his first Armenian drams.

Even the money has changed since my days as a Peace Corps Volunteer. Back then, drams looked a little like Monopoly money. I remember hearing horror stories about how in late November 1993, when the dram became Armenia’s legal tender, Peace Corps Volunteers were receiving it as their pay, along with dollars that were supposed to be for “vacation”. The A 1s said that no one wanted to accept the drams. The locals wanted dollars or roubles. Consequently, many of the ones in that very scrappy first Peace Corps/Armenia group had trouble buying what they needed. In 1995, drams were accepted, but people still preferred getting paid in stronger currencies.

I remember paying my rent in US dollars, and having to pay the conversion fee… which I could ill afford. Today, drams are fine, and I didn’t notice anyone asking for euros or dollars in lieu of drams. In fact, while I did see some conversion offices, there weren’t nearly as many there last week as there were when I was a PCV. If you’d like to see how the drams have changed in appearance since the 90s, click here. As you can see, the look of the money has changed twice since the original drams came out in November 1993. I am most familiar with the 1993 version of Armenian drams.

Two different versions of 1000 dram notes. The purple one is the more recent version. Both kinds are circulating now.

Below is actual Armenian money that I brought home after I finished my Peace Corps service. I was pretty good at spending it all, back then. 600 Armenian drams equates to about $1.50. The coin is worth 10 drams, which in the 90s was useful for paying about 1/3 of a metro fare. It was 30 drams to ride the metro when I left in 1997– an increase from 20 drams when we arrived in 1995. Today, it costs 100 drams to ride the metro, which is still pretty damned CHEAP! That fare covers all ten stations, although you have to pay each time you ride. I did have to laugh when Bill asked me if there were “zones”. No… the Yerevan Metro only offers ten stations, but the metro covers a pretty good swath of the city.

When we were in Armenia last week, I noticed that both the second and third versions of drams are still circulating. They’re also using coins a lot more now. When I was living there, Armenian lumas (coins worth less than one dram) were basically worthless. But now, it looks like they’ve done away with lumas and now have coins worth between 10 and 500 drams. 500 drams used to be one of the highest denominations in dram bank notes! By the time I left in 1997, the 5000 dram notes were brand new. Now the notes go up to 100,000 drams.

As of today, one Armenian dram is equivalent to .0023 euro or .0025 US dollar. One dollar is equal to about 401 Armenian drams. When I lived in Armenia, one dollar bought between 400 and 500 drams. The values constantly fluctuated, and some conversion offices offered better rates than others.

After Bill got some new Armenian drams, we crossed the street. I pointed out where Lenin’s statue used to stand, overlooking the square. By the time of our 1995 arrival, Lenin’s statue had already been removed, but the base was still there. I believe I have a picture of it in my scrapbook, which is unfortunately in storage in Texas. I distinctly remember that there was a Soviet Union flag on the bottom of it. Not long after our arrival, the pedestal was removed. Today, there are beautiful flowers planted there. Stepan told me that Lenin’s statue is still being stored in the National Assembly building near Republic Square. I heard that in the 90s, too. It’s probably true. I would expect the Armenians to move Lenin to a museum at some point. I mean, that’s what I would do, if it were up to me. 😀 On the other hand, I’ve seen evidence that the statue has been beheaded.

You can see the Soviet flag at the bottom of the old Lenin statue on this postcard. I have a picture of that somewhere in storage. Lenin himself was gone by the time we arrived in 1995. Someone gifted me a pack of Soviet era postcards when I was a Volunteer. I had no concept of how priceless they would end up being to me.

This is a photo of Lenin’s statue being removed in the 1990s. The image was made available in Creative Commons. Special thanks to user Technetium for making this unaltered image free to use.

Next, I pointed out a post office where Volunteers were picking up their mail after we lost Diplomatic Pouch privileges. Back in the 90s, Armenian mail was so unreliable that the powers that be at the US Embassy in Yerevan let us PCVs use the Diplomatic Pouch to send and receive mail. That went on from the beginning of Peace Corps/Armenia’s existence, until a couple of months before I left. I remember my mom sent me a box and I picked it up at that post office… the postage cost more than the contents of the box! I also remember that people could order long distance phone calls at that post office, although I never had to do that. I had a credit card that I could use from my home phones, all of which were rotary dial models! Back then, it was easier to call the United States than certain places in Yerevan, like my school. But now, pretty much everyone has a cell phone or a computer, and now phone call problems “ch’ga” (ch’ga= there aren’t).

We continued walking around Republic Square. I pointed out the huge empty fountains near the National Gallery of Armenia. I told Bill about how, back in the hot summer days of my time in Armenia, it was common to see boys in their underwear, playing in the fountains. I never or very rarely saw girls in the fountains. It was always boys in their undergarments! They were completely unabashed, too. I always wondered how much pee was in the fountains whenever I saw kids playing in them! I don’t think we saw any fountains that were actually working last week. Even in the 90s, that was a rather occasional thing. Sometimes, they worked, and other times, they were kept empty.

I looked at my watch and realized we needed to get back to the hotel to meet Stepan. So we made our way back, and passed several old guys sitting on a bench on the corner of Amiryan Street. They were trying to get people to go on one of their day tours, and they had a lot of competition. A whole bunch of people with cars and vans were offering to take tourists to the biggest tourist attractions on Armenia. That was a change from the 90s, when a lot of drivers would hang out at the Aftogayan (bus station), or at certain other established places around the city. I was a little tempted to book a tour, but there were too many places in Yerevan that I wanted to see and show Bill. I knew we’d be walking, and it would take a lot of time. So we ignored the guys on the bench… and every time we passed them, one of the guys seemed to notice me and my platinum hair. He almost always made a sassy comment, which made me laugh.

We waited in the hotel lobby for Stepan, and I struck up a conversation with a very handsome clerk with striking green eyes. I had seen those eyes before in Armenia, but they always startle me. A lot of Armenians have black or dark brown hair and brown eyes. But some of them have this very unique, exotic look, and this hotel clerk was one of those lucky folks. I think his name was Koriuyn, and he spoke excellent English. He asked me why I knew any Armenian, and I explained that I had lived in Armenia and taught children English. I added, I was probably living there before he was born.

Koriuyn confirmed that. He said, “I was born in 2001.”

I laughed and said, “Then I was speaking Armenian before you were! You were a spark in your father’s eyes when I was living here.” And again, I had to comment on how much some things had changed.

Stepan then arrived with his lovely 17 year old daughter, Susi, whose English is impeccable and almost without a trace of an accent. Susi spent a year studying in an American high school. She was a lucky recipient of a FLEX scholarship (Future Leaders Exchange Program — AC Armenia), which is a program sponsored by the US government and offered in a number of developing countries. Susi lived in Washington State, and was hosted by Returned Peace Corps Armenia Volunteers. How lucky is that?

I got a big kick out of Susi, because the first thing she did was offer me a hug, after adding “Or are you not a hugger?” That is such an American thing to say! She was clearly excited to meet us, and was happy to trade stories with me, in particular, as we made our way to Geghard and Garni. As we drove out there, I was looking around the city, noticing again how developed it was, even though there are still many buildings in disrepair.

We even passed Yerevan’s waterpark, Water World, unthinkable in the 90s because of the energy crisis. I had read about the waterpark, but was still shocked it existed. It’s located right by a major highway, making it easy to spot. When we passed it, I said “That looks like a nightmare!” It appeared to be drained and maybe not very clean or safe. Susi said she hadn’t been there in a long time. Trip Advisor reviews confirm that it may be a bit of a “nightmare”.

We also passed what appeared to be a butcher shop. They had a pen that was packed with sheep, and as we drove by, I could see that there was a recently butchered sheep hanging there in plain view, thanks to an open door. The sight made me feel a little queasy and sad, although I understand that if you want to enjoy eating lamb or mutton, you have to kill one first.

I am definitely not a vegetarian myself, although I really admire people who don’t eat meat. Maybe this display is the better way to do things… and remind people that this is the stark reality behind eating meat. That wasn’t as shocking to me as the time I saw a pig’s head in a shop in Greece, and at least we were in car, so we passed quickly. I don’t eat lamb or mutton, so those poor sheep were safe from me. I should mention that some Armenians will buy a lamb to sacrifice at the church before a special occasion, such as a wedding. I remember seeing that the second time I visited.

Soon we arrived at Geghard, a cave monastery founded in the 4th century by Gregory the Illuminator, and Stepan bought an “Armenian Snickers”, which was really a chewy Churchkhela– a snack made with walnuts, grape must, and flour. Then we went into the church, where there was someone being baptized, and a couple getting married. Bill lit candles for his father, my father, and his Aunt Betsy. Susi covered her hair in local tradition, and I took many photos of the beautiful monastery built into a mountain side.

The main chapel was built in 1215, but the actual place has been sacred for many centuries, starting from where Gregory the Illuminator found a spring in the cave where the monastery began. Below are some photos of the area near the church. Lots of people are selling souvenirs and food. Stepan bought some absolutely delicious, fresh, sweet bread during our visit. I can’t remember what it was called, but it was so good! I never had it when I lived in Armenia, so that alone was worth the trip. I can also report that both Garni and Geghard have public WCs, and the one at Geghard is clean and well tended by a “Klofrau” (German word for toilet woman– I’m sure there’s an Armenian equivalent term that I don’t know) who takes 100 dram per visit.

This was my third visit to Geghard, and I remembered there is a “singing room” there. It has fantastic acoustics. On my previous visits, I was encouraged to actually sing in the singing room. I didn’t do that this last time, because I wasn’t there with a large group, and there were actual religious ordinances going on. Instead, I wandered from room to room, enjoying the incredible sights of this ancient place. Armenia has a lot of very old and ancient sites that beg to be explored. Below are some photos of Geghard. I want to mention the little water fountain in the photos. Those water fountains, called Pulpulaks, can be found all over Armenia, and they are very welcome in the summer, especially when it’s extremely hot outside. Armenia, as a rule, does get very hot in the summer.

From Geghard, we moved on to Garni Temple, which is a very interesting Greco-Roman colonnaded building close to Geghard. It is the only standing temple of its kind in Armenia, as well as the former Soviet Union. Some scholars believe that Garni is a tomb, rather than a temple, and that’s why it’s still standing. Garni actually collapsed in 1679, thanks to an earthquake. But it was reconstructed between 1969 and 1975. Now, people pay to visit. I have never heard of anyone visiting either Geghard or Garni alone, although I’m sure some people do that. The two sites aren’t related to each other, except that they are closeby, so people tend to see both on the same day. As you can see, there was a bride and groom there during our visit, taking some iconic photos. Below is my ticket to Garni…

Below are some photos from Garni…

Finally, after we visited Garni, we headed to a local restaurant for khorovatz, which were absolutely delicious! Stepan ordered the best for us, and we enjoyed a view of Garni from the restaurant’s windows. Stepan told us that the restaurant is hard to visit in the summer because many people have wedding receptions there. I could see why. The food was amazing; the service kind and professional; and there is plenty of room for dancing.

On the way back to Yerevan, we stopped by Ruben Sevak School #151, where I taught English for two years, and where Stepan and I met. He was in my 9th form class when he was 15 years old, and already spoke excellent English even then. The front door of the school was open, so we walked in. The “guards” showed up a few minutes later, and Stepan explained that he’d wanted to show me the school, since I used to teach there. The guards– friendly men– said “Hamet sek” (Come on in!), and we had a look around. I got a few photos of that, too… I love how warm and welcoming Armenians are. Stepan and I reminisced about the female guard who lived at the school when we were there. She was very strict, and wouldn’t let kids leave during the day. Consequently, a couple of students, including one in our 9th form class, would just jump out a window to escape. That actually happened once while I was teaching that class. It was a shocker!

Below are photos from Ruben Sevak School #151, circa 2023!

I remembered Ruben Sevak School well, and although there have been a few improvements, the place hasn’t changed much at all. Stepan explained that it’s now a “basic school”. Ruben Sevak school used to handle children in first through tenth form, which was when pupils graduated (age 16). But now, Armenian youngsters go to high school after 9th grade (they now call the levels “grades”, instead of the more British term “forms”). Armenian school now ends at 12th grade. Stepan also told me that now, all Armenian children are taught how to play chess. It’s an actual subject in school, starting very early. Stepan’s son is a champion chess player. I remember in 1996, Yerevan hosted the Chess Olympics. I wish I had my scrapbooks, so I could share my photos of signs advertising the event, which was held at the Sports Complex, right across from where I lived during my second year.

If you’d like to know more about who Ruben Sevak was, please follow this link to a post I wrote about him in 2021. I got to meet his daughter when she visited the school. She was in her 80s at the time. I think it’s very fitting that I got to work in the school that was named after Ruben Sevak, given where I live now. 😉

Well, this post is way too long, so I’m going to end it now. I will continue the saga of our Armenian adventures in the next post.

Standard
Champagne Bucket trips

Airplane rides to Armenia… part two of our Armenian adventure!

Friday, November 10th was the big day we’d been waiting for since September. I chose that date because I wanted to have an extra Saturday in Armenia. I had big aspirations of finding new art for our home, and I knew that the Vernissage would have more people there on the weekend than during the week. It also turned out that Stepan had a work project he had to attend to over this past weekend, so it was a lucky thing that we opted to leave on the 10th.

Right now, Bill and I have the good fortune of living in Germany, which makes getting to Armenia comparatively easy. One can fly directly to Yerevan from several European cities, including Frankfurt, which is just 20 minutes or so from where we live. However, Lufthansa currently only offers direct flights from Frankfurt to Yerevan once a week. If we wanted to fly there directly from Frankfurt, we’d have to leave on Saturday, the 11th. So we flew to Vienna on Friday night, enjoyed a few hours in the Lufthansa lounge, then flew Austrian Airlines to Yerevan. That was an interesting experience!

It wasn’t the first time we’d flown on Austrian Airlines. When we lived in the Stuttgart area, we’d had layovers that involved flying on Austrian and Swiss Airlines, as they are code shared with Lufthansa. It had been several years since our last experience with Austrian Airlines, but I did remember that all the ladies working for them wore bright red tights!

Since we were in business class, we got a somewhat elaborate dinner service… for being on an airplane, that is. They brought out “tablecloths” for our tray tables. The food was relatively decent, too. Below are a few photos from our visits to the Lufthansa lounge in Frankfurt and the Austrian Airlines lounge in Vienna. You’ll notice a certain theme… Free beer and wine is a nice perk of flying business. Of course, it’s not really “free”, is it? Our usual lounge in the Frankfurt airport was closed, so we had to go to a different one. It was pretty busy! Travel is definitely back in full swing, post pandemic.

I was very excited in Vienna when we went to our gate. After 26 years, I was finally going to Armenia, and it was a treat to hear the language again. I looked around at the other passengers, many of whom looked like they might have been coming from the United States. I also saw a few Americans, at least one of whom was traveling with an Armenian. I wondered if any of them were fellow RPCVs… or maybe even a current PCV. One American guy must have noticed our blue passports, because he came up and asked us in English if we were in line.

Then we were called up to the desk by the Austrian Airlines rep, a pretty young woman wearing a bright red Austrian Airlines approved hijab. She told us that she needed more information. I wasn’t surprised, since Lufthansa’s Web site hadn’t let me properly fill out our profiles. We handed over our passports, and she took care of it quickly. Soon, we were on our way.

We enjoyed an uneventful 3.5 hour flight to Yerevan, making our landing at 4:40 AM. Before we left Germany, Stepan sent me a private message asking for our flight details. I had never managed to get ahold of our hotel before we arrived, so he called them for us to ask about hotel transfers. Then he decided he’d just pick us up, which was very kind and generous of him! Stepan is the bomb for doing that for us! շնորհակալություն, Stepan jan!

I braced myself on arrival to Armenia, remembering what it was like to arrive in Yerevan via Paris, France in June 1995. At that time, the old Soviet era airport was still operating. I remember getting there at about 3:30 AM, and there being very few lights anywhere. Our flight was courtesy of the now defunct Armenian Airlines, which was still flying 70s vintage Soviet planes.

My 1995 Peace Corps flights were my first flights anywhere since I’d moved home from England with my family in 1978. Whenever my parents traveled by air after that, they left me at home with my sisters or a housesitter. So while the United Airlines flight to Paris was more modern, the Armenian Airlines flight was a lot like what I’d remembered from my last flight from the 70s.

Looking around that Armenian Airlines plane, it really felt a lot like 1978, complete with people smoking the whole time and standing in the aisle. The day prior, we had flown from Washington, DC to Paris, and then spent twelve hours in Paris. Actually, I stayed in the airport for twelve hours, while braver and better traveled souls went into the city. I was in a pretty exhausted, frazzled state by the time I first laid eyes on Yerevan in 1995. I left Charles De Gaulle airport swearing off another visit to Paris… Of course, I have since learned that one should never judge a place or its people by its airport(s). I love Paris, now.

When my Peace Corps group got off the Armenian Airlines plane in 1995, we got off on the tarmac, and then walked through an old, dimly lit office, which I guess was passport control. I remember the airport itself was crumbling a bit, and there were few lights on in the terminal. The restrooms were a nightmare. You could smell them much easier than you could see them. If you’d like to see some photos of the airport, click here. It didn’t look nearly that bad in 1995, of course… but those pictures do bring back some vivid memories.

Volunteers from A2 (the second Peace Corps Armenia group) had come to greet us, and were passing snacks over a barrier. It took about three hours for our group of 32 to get all of our luggage because the airport lacked the modern equipment to unload the aircraft expeditiously. Then we all had to get through customs. I remember we were all loaded on a bus with curtains on the windows several hours later. I think it was about 8:00 AM when we finally got out of the airport. I remember staring at the half built buildings in the area near the airport, people’s laundry billowing from their balconies. The landscape was so different. I could see Mount Ararat, as it was a bright, sunny day with relatively low air pollution.

CP53N6 Armenia – Yerevan – Piazza della Repubblica. Hotel Armenia. Photo licensed by Alamy.

This is a photo of Republic Square the way I remembered it in 1995. Hotel Armenia is in the background.
CP529N Armenia twentieth century nineties – Yerevan – Piazza della Repubblica. Hotel Armenia. Photo licensed by Alamy.

Another look at Hotel Armenia in the 90s. This is exactly how I remembered it. The signs on the roof are now long gone.

Our group soon arrived at what was then Hotel Armenia, and is now the Marriott in Republic Square. We had a brief meeting with our training director; then we were allowed to go to our rooms on the less expensive “old side” of the hotel. I remember the rooms were very Soviet, with no hot water except in the early hours of the day, twin beds with wool blankets, and linoleum floors. There were ladies in uniforms there who “guarded” the halls and made sure we turned in our keys before we ventured out anywhere.

I remember chandeliers in the conference room, with long tables that had bottles of sparkling Jermuk mineral water, Pepsi, and juice. I distinctly remember thinking the water tasted like Alka Seltzer… and so did the Pepsi, which probably came from a Russian bottler. The chandeliers only had a few light bulbs in them. We were presented with borscht and smoked fish… and I remember a lot of sour cream, which I don’t really eat. I wondered what in the world I had gotten myself into.

By contrast, in 2023, getting out of the much newer airport was a breeze. We went to passport control, where a rather dour man asked me if it was my first time in Armenia. I smiled and said, “No. I used to live here.”

The passport guy was obviously not as excited as I was. He gave my passport an aggressive stamping as he grunted a disinterested welcome and sent me on my way. Bill and I rounded a corner, where our bags were already waiting for us. I could feel the excitement welling as we walked out of the secure area. There was a small group of Armenian men standing there, obviously waiting for new arrivals. Some of them held up signs.

Then I saw him… Stepan jan was there, holding a huge bouquet of flowers and wearing an ear to ear smile! We were easy to spot, especially since my hair has turned platinum blonde in my middle age years.

“Jenny Jan!” he exclaimed as he handed me the flowers.

I let out an emotional cry as we shared a warm embrace. The Armenian men loitering in the arrivals hall kind of stared at us curiously. It was obvious Stepan and I were very excited to see each other, and they probably wondered why… I’m clearly not a local!

The scene kind of reminded me of when Bill came home from the Iraq War in 2007. I had come to what used to be called National Airport in Northern Virginia to pick him up, and I will never forget how he came charging toward me, still in his ACUs (uniform), walking just behind his narcissistic war boss from Hell. Bill almost knocked me over with a huge hug, so relieved was he to be done with that particular patriotic chore. Bill and I shared a kiss and a long hug, and people looked on, smiling at the scene that was unfolding. It was like a movie moment.

Totally goofy picture of me at 5:00 AM, holding the beautiful flowers Stepan brought for me. Yes, I was happy! And yes, I needed a shower and sleep.

Think of our first meeting with Stepan as kind of like a much less romantic version of meeting Bill, as he came home from war. It was dramatic and exciting, but also kind of heartwarming and sweet. I remembered Stepan as a 15 year old kid, and I’m sure he remembered the 24 year old version of me. Now, we’re both a lot older… but Stepan graciously said, “You didn’t change!” And neither did he!

Stepan took my bags and we ran into Naira, the Peace Corps doctor, who had come to the airport to see off her brother. We said hello to her, and Stepan loaded our bags into his car. We chattered excitedly as we headed to the Paris Hotel in Yerevan. It’s located on Amiryan Street, very close to Republic Square and just steps away from Hotel Armenia/Marriott.

I remember being flabbergasted by the drive into the city, as everything was lit up. I can’t belabor this point enough… in 1995, there was an energy crisis in Armenia, so there were very few lights then, even on the streets. By contrast, in 2023, Yerevan is a city that doesn’t really sleep. There are a number of businesses that operate 24 hours. Bars and restaurants stay open late. And there are colorful lights everywhere!

A smiling man was waiting to welcome us at Paris Hotel Yerevan. He spoke excellent English. I had made the mistake of not booking our room for the 10th, which would have allowed us to check in immediately upon arrival. Or, maybe it was Expedia.com’s doing, since we weren’t technically arriving until the 11th. Our deluxe king room wasn’t ready for us to check in early, but they did have a lower grade room available. Bill and I agreed to that arrangement, since we were both so tired.

When Bill went to pay, the transaction failed. Stepan paid for the temporary room with his card, and after a chilly shower, we gratefully went to bed. We later learned that the transaction failed because of the WiFi system. Once we learned to use the chip on our credit cards, we had fewer problems with failed transactions. I think the room they gave us was one the hotel staff uses for situations like ours. Its condition was not nearly as good as the room we’d booked and moved to later that afternoon. But honestly, we were both so tired, we didn’t care. Below are pictures of our temporary digs. The room was fine for what we needed it for.

A few hours later, we got up for breakfast in the hotel, which is included in the rate. Paris Hotel has a great spread in their rooftop restaurant, Montmartre, which as you can see in the above photos, is also beautifully decorated. I enjoyed the relaxing jazz music that played as we enjoyed views of Yerevan. Yes, I still recognized it, as there are still a number of familiar Soviet style buildings and cranes in the landscape. Mount Ararat was tucked behind the clouds. It was so great to be back!

Stepan had said he wanted to take us to Garni and Geghard, a place that everyone who visits Armenia should see at least once… More on that in the next post!

Standard