7am in Gyumri
Over the weekend I had my first excursion with Birthright Armenia. Luckily for me the excursion began with the opportunity to explore around my new hometown of Gyumri. There is nothing like a good scavenger hunt to experience a new place. I was especially taken back by the challenges that seemed so simple and how they turned out to give my team the most trouble. One of which was to exchange a piece of candy for a joke. Back home, strangers will joke with you on the street for no reason at all, here in Gyumri however, most of the people we tried to talk to were too shy to partake let alone allow us to record them for the judges. Another challenge was to find a couple on the street and get them to tell us how they met. An additional challenge that proved to be a headache. Most sweethearts would tell us they were dating in secret or that they weren’t dating at all, yet their emotions were hard to hide. When we finally found an older pair that was willing to talk to us, we found out that they had just met the previous month but as I told my teammates and the judges, there is no timetable on love.
After the hunt we took a short thirty-minute bus ride to Marmashen Monastery. I ate a very quick lunch and climbed the highest nearby mountain peak. While the rest of the group finished their lunch and talked, I sat by myself on a rock overlooking the church, surrounding hills, and the nearby river to have a moment of reflection. I thought of family and roots and what it meant to be returning to this country. Why was something in my heart calling me back? This question would soon be revealed in the form of my job placement, but more on that later. During the tour I learned that this monastery was home to the only king that had been buried in Armenia. The following day was Vardavar, the Armenian festival where everyone soaks each other with water. If you do not want to get wet, stay home. It reminded me of my favorite day in Spain except here they yelled “Ruskiy” at me as they drenched me in water. Here in Gyumri if you’re blonde, you are Russian, there is no point fighting it. I entered downtown armed with my water gun and exhilaration. My first victim was a young boy named Ruben. I snuck up behind him and dumped my water bottle down his neck. Instantly, a bond was formed. I spoke next to no Armenian, and he didn’t speak English, but after this first exchange, we had each other’s backs. For the rest of the morning the two of us roamed the streets looking for victims. In a city where courtship involves literally following a girl around, it was very apparent that this holiday gave the men an opportunity to express their pent-up flirtatious instincts. The girls in my group had drones of men lining up to dump water on them just to run back to the nearest fountain to resupply and repeat. This special day gave all the people in Armenia a chance to smile as one, regardless of where they were from. As much as I wish I had documented more of it, it would have been foolish to walk around with my phone out.
Yesterday I began my first Armenian lessons. Although it may seem simple, the most important word I have learned is “Che.” Which means no. Before I could tell my host mother no, she would continuously pile dishes of dolma, kufta, cucumbers, tomatoes, bread, khinkali, potatoes, stuffed meats, dried meats, cured meats, and any other delicious cuisine one could and couldn’t imagine on the table. There is usually hardly any space on the table for our plates among the multitude of dishes my host mother has prepared. Leaving the house hungry is simply not an option.
Throughout my life there has always been a voice inside of my heart that is impossible to ignore. I am not in control of this voice which means it comes and goes as it pleases. It’s the voice that wakes me up in the middle of the night and tells me to write. The voice that told me to go to Mallorca where my life changed forever. The voice that told me to come to Armenia. The most exciting part of this voice is exploring why it tells me to do the things it does. That’s where I currently find myself on this journey of self-discovery. On Monday, I started my job here in Gyumri. I am working on a project called Lead4Shirak that is organized by the Austrian Development Agency in partnership with the European Union. The goal of the Leader initiative is to develop rural European communities by working with them from the ground up. We do not want to go and tell these villages what needs to be done, instead, we let them tell us. We just provide the means to an end. It is here where I find my why. As I sat and wrote a piece about my village in Spain and what it means to me, while simultaneously realizing that the work and knowledge I gain while helping on this project directly corelates to my goals to one day help bring more industry to Valderredible with a hands-off heart on approach, I couldn’t help but notice the hands of destiny resting warmly on my shoulders. Moments like these remind me that everything is going to be alright. I felt a lone tear begin to roll down my cheek, but it didn’t last long as the hands of all my ancestors quickly wiped it away.
