Well, folks, I went and did it. I finally broke down and visited Yerevan, Armenia, which was my home for 27 months of my 20s, back in the 1990s. The 90s were quite a difficult time to be living in Yerevan, especially for a clueless twenty something like I was at the time. I had a difficult time serving in the third group to go to Armenia with the Peace Corps. There were a lot of times back then when I wondered if I would successfully conclude my service without either quitting or being thrown out of the country. Looking back on it, there were people I met through the Peace Corps whom I thought were stronger than I was and didn’t stay the course. But I did, and now that I’m 51 years old and a “hausfrau”, I’ll take that success.
I’m being very serious when I state that I resisted going back to the former Soviet Republic of Armenia for a long time. Part of me really wanted to go there… to see where I used to live, take photos, and experience the place as a tourist. Armenia actually is a very interesting country with a fascinating history. Parts of it are stunningly beautiful, too. I’d like to go back and visit those parts on a proper tour, or maybe hire a guide to take us around the country. Actually, I’d probably be better off with a private guide cuz, you know… I can be a little “extra”. 😀
Bill was also hesitant about going to Armenia. I’m not really sure why. He’s been to some pretty austere places. Last summer, I was pressuring him to go, because I was doing some research that indicated that Armenia has become a place drastically different from what I remembered from the 90s. I thought we could have an amazing and relatively inexpensive vacation. But he demurred, and when we did our usual Champagne Bucket drawing, Finland won. We ended up turning that into a Scandinavian extravaganza that included Estonia and Latvia. As we were wandering around Latvia, I couldn’t help but remember Armenia, and how I needed to grow a spine and go already.
Then in September, fate intervened. Bill put his hand in the Champagne Bucket, and pulled out Armenia. And this time, I decided come hell or high water, we were going– just in time to celebrate our 21st wedding anniversary. I found a great hotel, booked business class tickets, and let my former student, Stepan, who now works for the Peace Corps, know I was going to be coming.
I remember Stepan was a little skeptical at first. He didn’t want to get excited, since I’d been talking about coming to Armenia for ages. But I insisted that this time, it was for real. I was finally going to come back to Yerevan. I’m so glad we finally made it happen. We had an amazing trip that was extremely meaningful to me on so many levels. I think the biggest takeaway, though, is that sometimes going back to make good memories is the best way to get clarity and perspective.
My first time in Armenia was affected by a lot of things that I probably made more of than I should have at the time. But my second time there, I felt surprisingly confident and comfortable… and save for our actual anniversary day, which was pretty weird, we really had fun. Of course, Yerevan is a lot more developed now than it was in the 90s.
I couldn’t believe the shopping, western style food, and sheer lights everywhere. When I arrived in 1995, none of that stuff was there. Yerevan had few restaurants, few western style shops, and few lights. I got to see it change significantly when I was living there, but it was not even close to the level of development then that it is now. English is everywhere, too. I used my rusty Armenian skills, but I didn’t really need to do that, most everywhere we went.
So now it’s time for my usual blow by blow trip report. I hope some of you will come along for the ride. I have a lot of new stories to write and pictures to share! Not everything was positive, of course, and I do plan to be honest about that… but overall, I was left with a very good impression and a strong feeling of welcome. One thing that hasn’t changed since the 90s, for instance, is that people still seem to think I’m Russian.
I’ll get more into that later… especially when I write in detail about the overly intimate frisking I got this morning from a very obnoxious security officer at the airport. She seemed to be on a massive power trip. There was a lot of confusion, because there was a woman trying to deal with her baby stroller. She was holding things up.
Yerevan only has a metal detector, which requires security officers to put their hands on people who they deem “suspicious”, which I guess I must have been to to the security officer. She spoke English to me, then switched to Russian, as she snarled “Put your arms out. I’m not finished with you, yet.”
I looked her in the eyes and said in a calm, but very serious tone of voice, “I don’t speak Russian.”
At that point, she kind of backed off and let me get on my way. Now I wonder if she thought I was Russian, and was taking out some of the recent Armenian anti-Russian sentiment on me. Don’t get me wrong. It’s certainly well deserved. Russia screwed over Armenia regarding the conflict with Azerbaijan. But I don’t have a drop of Russian blood in me, and I had nothing to do with Putin’s policies toward Armenia and Azerbaijan. I simply wanted to move on from the struggling lady with the baby stroller, and the aggressive security officer with personality deficits. Sue me.
All week, people have been trying to speak Russian to me, just like the old days. I shocked more than a few of them by responding in Armenian. I didn’t bother trying to speak Armenian with the security lady, because I just wanted to get away from her. Aside from that, I think she needed a reminder that not everyone with blonde hair and blue eyes is an oppressor. My aim was simply to get through security and have some coffee, since it was about 3:30 AM. What the hell is wrong with that?
If the officer had spoken in Armenian, she might have gotten a cheerier and more respectful response from me. I’m not sure how people are supposed to behave in the wee hours of the morning when we’re trying to get through security and some woman with a baby stroller is holding up the line, frantically trying to get it to fold. I know I appeared to be very annoyed, because I was. My annoyance was perfectly justified, and there was really no reason for the security officer to practically give me a “happy ending” as I left her country. She certainly had no cause to be so nasty to me. Sorry… just had to get that out of my system. I feel better now.
But anyway, I’m pretty much over that rather traumatizing incident– for now, anyway… 😉 Tomorrow, I’ll commence with writing about the trip and everything we saw and did. That will be a much happier topic. Most Armenians are wonderful, warm, friendly, and talented people, and I really want to focus on their kindness, generosity, and good humor. So stay tuned. “Heto noritz k’gam eli…” (and if you’re Armenian and this doesn’t make any sense, “Voch inch.“)
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