Kelly's Visit

This is a very, very overdue posting from Kelly's trip. She made a huge effort to come to Armenia on our birthdays - mine being the big 4-0 (as she likes to point out, she is younger). We had a fabulous time, but her words describing her trip are great. I have edited an email only to make sense for the blog and added a few comments:

I do have to start way back in Armenia, and tell you that it was a great and yet very funky experience. The thing is, I thought that I knew "travel." I thought I knew HOW to travel, at least. But Armenia was like nothing I had ever experienced before ... this was not any kind of sissy travel like, "Where is my next latte coming from today?" Oh no ... this was: (1) your taxi may be able to get you all the way to your destination, or it might not; (2) you need to hold your breath if your taxi drives past one of the many big trucks giving off black smoke, because all the windows are open since there is no air conditioning, (3) many, many remote and yet very beautiful churches; (4) long stretches of road lined with fruit-stands where they sell what I like to call big-ass fruit rollups; (5) and my good friend Lori who sallied forth and helped me navigate everything like it was Old Hat to her. (Thank God.)

One of my favorite days was when we went to a big monastery (Khor Virap) by Mount
Ararat, which was BEAUTIFUL. We climbed down a ladder in a dark narrow hole in the ground, and fifty feet later, we emerged in what was apparently a prison hole complete with snakes for some king or other famous person that apparently crossed the wrong person and got thrown down into the pit for 13 years. Fortunately, all the snakes were gone, but the ladder itself (into a dark narrow opening that just went down and down) was pretty scary ... a lawsuit waiting to happen. (Lori edit: Khor Virap is where King Trdat imprisoned St. Grigory the Illuminator. Bad karma apparently affected the king who later went mad. After 13 years in a dungeon with snakes and no light, St. Grigory was summoned to return the king to reason. The King then converted himself and Armenia to Christianity.)

We continued on to a beautiful church on the top of a hill--one that you see in my pics, with the funky steps on the outside--but at this point, our old Soviet Lada taxi cab, which had chugged like a lawnmower over the mountains at a top speed of 20 miles an hour, failed to make the hill. So, with five people in the car, the driver kept rolling back to the corner of the last switchback (right by a long big drop over the hill, as we were pretty high by then), and then charging up the hill in the manner of the little train saying, "I think I can, I think I can." We did this 5 times. Finally, we all had to bail out and walk up the rest of the hill, and the taxi driver went sailing blissfully by us, since he had lightened up the load enough for the engine.

Lori edit: Kelly really did make it to the top of Noravank, the 2 story church, with very treacherous and steep cantilevered steps. Here are the pictures.

Help almost here

Hi everyone. Some of you already know this, but many of you don't. I let our nanny go about 2 weeks ago. My boss, Sonya, was incredibly understanding and agreed to let me work from home. The plan was that I would work in the morning while the boys were at school and at night when they were asleep. The plan hit a snag the very first day because it was fall break and there was no school for a week. So, I adjusted: work in the morning while the boys' brains were turning to partial mush watching cartoons in German. The second week I woke up estactic because school was in session. We got up, dressed, and I happily walked them to school. Cole Ryan goes into his classroom without any problems. Austin's classroom door is locked. Another mom explains (I think) that there were no classes for another week. Another modification: take Austin with me to work everyday. And, I had to deal with CR's very indignant whines of "it's not fair that I have to go to school when Austin doesn't." (Note, when Madisen had school and Cole did not, there were no whines from Cole; pointing this out to him seems to only increase his whine factor as he struggles to differentiate it). Luckily, Austin liked going to my office, printing out coloring pages, coloring, cutting paper, and playing computer games. I actually got work done.

The best part is this upcoming week: Nov. 12. My sister Lisa, two nephews, Nadeem and Gabriel, are arriving Wednesday night. My brother-in-law, Hassan, will arrive on Saturday night. We are all so excited that they are coming! Not only are they bringing such necessities as shoes for Cole (thanks, Mom), pancake syrup, tortilla chips, and hot cocoa, but they are also staying for 2 weeks to see Armenia, watch the football match (soccer game) "Armenia v. Khazahkstan", see the Armenian philharmonic orchestra, and check out lots of very old churches and monastaries. Cole and Austin cannot wait to play with their cousins (and not go to school) and I am so excited to see and talk to Lisa and Hassan.

I found a babysitter who is starting tomorrow afternoon. Nana (pronounced "nahnah") has even agreed to watch all 4 kids. Freedom! We are going to the genocide museum and the brandy factory - two places that wouldn't be good with the kids.

And the icing on the cake: Lisa and Hassan very generously offered to take Cole and Austin back to the States with them. While all four boys will have their individual gameboys, books, activities, etc., this 30+ hour plane trip (much of it standby) will not be easy. Tom and I really appreciate Lisa and Hassan's volunteering to do this and we hope their sanity is not completely shot when they return home.

Here's a picture of Cole, Austin, and me with Mt. Ararat behind us.

Playground Rules

I expected culture shock for all of us. We all have had those days where we just don't get why people do things differently than we are used to. Cole is constantly baffled by Armenians who are always dressed very nicely; I am still baffled by the 5 inch heels that women wear everywhere; and we are all stunned when babies show up clothed like Alaskans when it is 70 degrees outside.

We have a new issue that I didn't anticipate: playground rules. I figured my children would meet other kids, play football (soccer), hang out at our playground, and play tag. I assumed that children would figure out how to communicate. That is half correct.

Our playground is used by everyone. Adults, however, only supervise babies, toddlers and pre-schoolers. Kids from about 4-5 are on their own. Teen girls congregate together like all teen girls do. The teen boys gather to look at the girls, look "cool" and pass around cigarettes. (Girls and women smoke here; it is just not culturally acceptable to do it in public). I am almost always the only mom supervising elementary aged children.

The playground is mainly dirt, three wooden benches, and a separate concrete section containing dirt that gets turned into a mud pile when water is added from the fountain that doesn't turn off. There are two wooden swings that are more suited for toddlers. There are a few trees, many grape vines overhead, and metal garages all around where kids climb. The garages are one main reason why I supervise; the other is to attempt to prevent throwing rocks, dirt, and trash at one another.

Despite attempts by an older woman to keep the playground clean, it never stays that way for more than 5 minutes. Trash is routinely thrown on the ground. A few weeks ago, we went out and a women with full hair and make up was busy cleaning the park. She did the normal things - pick up trash, sweep the sidewalk, but then she did something very odd: she watered the dirt. Really. And it had just rained (not a lot; there was no mud). The same woman later went to my landlord and complained that my kids were messing up the playground - probably the ONLY children in our neighborhood who do not intentionally litter because they constantly hear me say "Armenia needs no more trash." So, if Cole & Austin don't litter, what was she complaining about? The nest they made out of leaves & twigs the day before.

And then there was the mud pie day when they were chastised for making mud pies on the sidewalk. But the constant cigarette butts, plastic bags, and snack food are not a problem. Go figure.

We sometimes go to the "soccer park". It is across the street and has a soccer field covered in that fake grass stuff, torn nets, and a half field or less surrounded by wooden railings. The park also has more equipment - several sets of monkey bars, 2 see saws, some swings, and multi-level bars to climb on. We should probably call it the Lenin park because a lovely bust of Lenin is there. Here are the boys - and our neighbor Manet - climbing on it. Nobody has yelled at us at the soccer park or accused us of littering. We have, however, found a dead rat that was not moved for several days.