They warn you about the Winter. How it’s not the cold itself, it’s that you can’t get away from it. It gets dark so early, and the winter food is different, and you have been here just long enough that it’s starting to feel long. All Januaries are long, of course. It’s a long cold … More Peace Corps Armenia: stories to keep you warm
Gold light spills through my window every night around 5:30 pm, and the fig tree turns all deep blue and green and orange around the edge. I’ll go for a run, or talk on the phone, or lesson plan, or write, like I am doing now. I’ll make a cup of tea with lemon in … More Peace Corps Armenia: Like it is
In Short: School started. I switched to warm clothes; got a cold. Had to ask another PCV how to request medicine ‘cause I didn’t pay attention during PST and thought I’d never get sick. FINALLY finished that book. Visited Lake Sevan. Visited my PST Host Family. Fell behind on my running schedule. Restarted English Club … More Peace Corps Armenia: Patience
The heat breaks like a fever and fat fig leaves glitter in the rain. Had I really forgotten what a cool breeze felt like? This first storm comes like a celebration, with dancing trees and thunder song. Swallows dot the hazy purple sky and sing, and it comes from nowhere and everywhere, like something has … More Peace Corps Armenia: Andzrev Galis E
It doesn’t seem like I could possibly have anything to teach Nune*. She’s in her late sixties, a garden expert, makes a better cup of coffee than I, and is decidedly unimpressed with both my Armenian and my cooking. So I was surprised when she came in to my room with a skein of yarn … More Peace Corps Armenia: Blink and You’ll Miss it
The smallest girl in my English club stands on her tiptoes to try and reach the board, giving English her very best shot despite being only six and sitting in on her older sister’s class. “Miss Maddy,” An older student whispers, and points at my stickers. Her eyes glitter. “Kareliey?” May I? I nod and … More Peace Corps Armenia: Special Everywhere
A group sits around a table full of food, laughing and clapping. I stand towards the outskirts of the group with my friend, a woman whose first home is also far away. We ask each other about our respective countries in a language neither of us was born into, with long patient pauses while we … More Peace Corps Armenia: Dancing and Lights
