We spent a week in Ijevan. It was the first time I got out of the fortress of cars, noise and one million souls that is Yerevan to find a more authentic Hayastan. Ijevan is a town where old soviet buildings live side by side with cows and chicken. From the window of my room I could see the mountains all around – and still, a lot of garbage. The human presence is strong in this sense. Buildings are unfinished, pure concrete, but behind each door a family builds its own nest, with its television and coffee and candies. I lived with an Armenian family for a week, sharing their meals and watching the evening soap opera. Tomatoes, cucumbers, panir (cheese), bread. A lot of Armenian coffee, showering after 8h30, when water is available again. We’ve been hosted by Young Tavush, a local organization very committed with local development and youth participation. They wanted us to help in the creation of new strategies for volunteer management and we’re going back there in mid September for a seminar they’re organizing at that time. Local people assumed I was Armenian, nothing exotic about me. We ended up going to an excavation where they were studying an ancient wall that remained from an old settlement in the region. On Saturday we headed to Stepanavan, passing by Vadnazor to change marshutka. The last bit between this city and our destiny was the most impressive , as all of the sudden the landscape turned from dryness to a refreshing green. Stepanavan is even smaller than Ijevan. There we had our on arrival training for EVS volunteers. We met our colleagues from FYCA and some other few volunteers. After getting used to all the calmness and silence of this more rural Armenia we took a taxi back to Yerevan on Monday evening. Storm and lightening, rain and cold weather, a new face of Armenian weather. Arabic, Russian music, Celine Dion, Elton John and voila, ‘You touch my tralala, my dindingdong’ included the soundtrack of the trip back to the capital. Short after midnight, again the city in front of our eyes and a new month about to begin. It rained a bit today, a prayer for flourishing times.
(On prayers: see attachment)
(24th August 2010)
