Graduation and Celebrations in Ijevan July 2019

Disclaimer: Before I write this story dear reader, I must write an important disclaimer.  The story will include my getting sunburned and dehydrated.  When my dear friend Narine, who sent me on this latest adventure, saw my sunburned face the next day she was upset and felt it was her fault.  She and Erine, the two young women who arranged for me to attend, hold no responsibility for my stupidity.  I am, unfortunately, not blessed with beautiful Armenian skin or even the olive tones of my own brother and sister.  I have always been the fair-skinned pasty-faced member of the family who gets redder while everyone else turns a beautiful tan.  My siblings told me it was proof that I was adopted.  So, Narine and Erine, my redness was my fault alone and thank you for having me in attendance.

On Tuesday, Narine asked me if I would be interested in attending the graduation event at Yerevan State University- Ijevan branch.  It was where I had given three classes, and they were inviting me and had a certificate to award me and one for my director, Hasmik, as well.  If I chose to attend, I could pick up hers as well since she was out of the country.  I said that I would be happy to attend, having attended more graduation ceremonies than I can count in America. Narine told me that the University was also inviting me to their celebration afterwards that would begin at 4:00 at the YELL Extreme Park.  This is a place I have seen advertised and could not pass up the opportunity to see it.  I will say more about it later in the story.  I asked Narine to accept on my behalf and help me arrange transportation to Ijevan.  As my ever-present guardian angel, she did both and told me that I was to be ready at eight o’clock on Wednesday morning.  I asked her about attire, knowing the requirements of such an event for a faculty member in America, and she told me to dress professionally but, as it would be so hot, coat and tie were not required. I did not ask her about coming back which was a mistake.

The next morning, I received a text from Lala with whom I work but she is also the omnipresent queen of taxi service in Noyemberyan.  She said to be ready at 8:15 and that I would be riding with her.  A little after 8:00, I left my house and walked towards Lala’s where she was walking down her drive.  The car pulled up a moment later and she pointed to the seat behind the driver for me and she took position one next to the driver which we call shotgun in America. We exchanged pleasantries and headed up the hills out of town.  A little way in to the ride she asked me how I was, and I replied well. She always gives me this mischievous smile where I feel like I am saying something incorrectly in Armenian.  Everyone at work laughs about the Lala-Jody language exchanges.

As we neared Ijevan, Lala asked me if I needed them to take me to the University.  I told her they could drop me off across the road from the University as I knew my way and it would have slowed down their travel to take me.  We understood each other despite our language barriers and the car pulled over to the right side of the road to let me out.  As I reached to get money to pay the driver, Lala said there was no charge because I was riding with her.  She had that beautifully mischievous smile as she said this in broken English.  I got out of the car and they sped away.

I crossed the highway, a wide but only two-lane affair, and the bridge over the river to get to the path I call the Riverwalk.  Now, I have run across eight lane highways in America, something I do not recommend, so this was no big deal.  As I began walking the Riverwalk, I saw three young women walking about ten meters in front of me.  They were dressed to the nines, so I assumed they were heading to the same graduation event to which I was headed.  One of the young ladies had on a beautiful green dress and high heels, a shoe style very common with the women, especially the younger women.   I would discover a little later that the green dressed woman was the master of ceremonies for the graduation event.  God bless her for making this trek in those four-inch heels, walking rough pavement and unpaved trail.

I arrived a few seconds after the women.  The square with the statue where I was to meet Susanna who had been my translator was a beehive of activity being set up for the event.  The three young women went inside the library where the organizing for everything seemed to be headquartered.  I found a bench under a tree and sat in the shade, reading the news on my phone and observing the activity.  Irene saw me sitting there and, as Armenian hosts are wanting to do, she came to me with a friendly warm greeting, but I could see she was worried because I was there alone.  She knows my language limitations and without my knowing called Susanna, who has been my translator and was assigned to help me at the event.  Erine does not know me very well and how perfectly contented I am to watch people.  All my years of training and negotiating have taught me so much about body language and vocal inflections and mannerisms that I like to study people without even understanding the language being spoken. I was perfectly happy on my park bench.

Susanna showed up about ten minutes later. She introduced me to her younger sister and a friend.  She asked me how long I had been waiting for her and if I was doing okay.  I let Susanna know that I was fine and had only been there a few minutes.  She looked panicked and told me she had heard I had been looking for her for a half an hour.   I told her I had not been there that long and, although I was very happy to see her, I assured her that I had not been looking for her.

I lost my seat on the bench to three ladies when I stood up and greeted Susanna.  I would have sacrificed it anyway, but the timing was funny.  We stood under a tree on the side of the courtyard.  Armenians are generally shorter than me and trees always seemed to be trimmed just so that they will hit me in the forehead.  I adjusted my position and talked with Susanna a few minutes.  She asked if she could go see where her class was going to stand and seemed apologetic for leaving me.  I told her that I was fine and that I would be standing under the tree if needed.

The crowd began to grow, and the concept of personal space is different in Armenia than America.  I tried not to move from my shady spot with the tree branches rubbing my head because I did not have my hat to ward the sun off my face.  People kept crowding closer to me pushing me a little deeper into the tree.  Two very nicely dressed young women stood right in front of me and seemed annoyed with me because I think I was accidentally photo-bombing their constant taking of selfies.

At long last, the ceremony began.  Although I understood very little of the language, I understood the pomp and circumstance of the event.  The aforementioned young lady with the high heels and pretty green dress was acting as the master of ceremony.  She introduced the provost of the school who spoke in a manner that seemed authoritative in tone.  I am sure it was a speech similar to ones I have heard delivered by principals, university presidents, and school board presidents. There is a universal track of the significance of education, of the future being bright, of hope. Although I did not understand the words, I read the faces of the people and saw the universal sign of agreement, nodding heads, and smiles of pride as parents looked at children, spouses looked at spouses, children looked at parents, and friends looked at each other. A prideful smile is without language.

The provost shifted his speech to acknowledging all the honored guests.  I recognized some of the school directors and public officials that I already knew. I did not know, because I had been led to believe that I was to receive my thanks in the afternoon activities, that I was to be in this section. I had been pushed a little deeper in to the branches of the tree and continued receiving disapproving glances from the selfie girls.    More parents and, I assume, younger siblings, and spouses had pushed me back, but I was content as I wanted them to be able to see their student receive recognition.  Suddenly, my limited knowledge of Armenian allowed me to understand the words for Peace Corps volunteer and hear my name called.  I had to squeeze between the selfie girls and some families to go up to the stage and receive my certificate and the one for the CCD-NGO Director.  There were handshakes and smiles and I left the front of the stage to return to my shady spot under the tree.

As I returned, excusing myself as I slid through the mass of families and the selfie girls, my status had changed.  I was no longer the American anomaly blocking the shade to a certain celebrity status.  I received many smiles and heard “Shnorhavor”, Armenian for congratulations, many times.  Most amazing was the reaction of the selfie girls.  After their congratulatory remarks, and my return to the shade of the tree behind them, I noticed one of them taking a group selfie that purposely included me hoping that I did not notice. I made sure to look towards the stage as though I did not notice but I was smiling inside.

This is when their graduation took a very curious turn for me.  In America, only Doctoral candidates or previously awarded Doctors are allowed to wear headgear or robes with stripes. I saw this group of students adorned in Doctoral garb receiving recognition and I assumed diplomas.  I came to understand that these were the honor graduates, something we recognize with braided ropes of various colors.  I saw a few of the students to whom I had delivered lectures and was proud of them even though I was confused at first by their attire.

The ceremony ended and students converged on tables that were marked for the various colleges to receive their diplomas.  In America, the recognition of dignitaries would have been reduced and the individual recognition of each graduate would have been of greater importance.  I guess the Soviet collective mentality that is so pervasive here creates an atmosphere where the leaders are more important than the individuals whom we are celebrating.  I did not understand this lack of recognition because, to me, the students whom I lectured deserved recognition today for their achievement and not me. If anyone asked my opinion as an American with many graduation ceremony experiences, I would have suggested to have more time honoring the students.

As the crowd diminished and the students received their diplomas from teachers or secretaries at big tables, I was standing there wondering what I was to do because the celebration did not start until 4:00 and it was only about 12:00. Erine found me and told me I was invited to the Provost’s office for the always present coffee and celebration of the day. She found Susanna to interpret for, and guide me to the appropriate office.  I realized Susanna wanted to be with her friends and family and told her to go, that I was fine. She excused herself with the message to call her if she was needed.

I found my way upstairs in the main building to the large conference room by the Provost’s office.  In the room surrounding a table that seated about twenty, there were chairs along the wall and  almost every chair held one of the introduced dignitaries.  I sat next to a man who spoke English and his wife.  They have a son who is about to go to a university in America and they were asking me many questions about medical insurance for college students.  In an homogeneous country like Armenia, it is hard to explain that there is no single way that anything is done in America.  I explained student insurance programs that are available at most academic institutions in America, but I am not sure if they ever truly understood me.  However, it was nice to converse in English.  They were both friendly people concerned about their son's well-being in a strange country, something to which I could relate..

As is an Armenian custom or necessity, the toasts with vodka and Armenian brandy began.  The provost led the first toast and he thanked everyone who was there and said many things I did not understand but at the end of his soliloquy, I raised my plastic shot cup and drank a sip of brandy.  The military officers who were there were toasted. Then, seeing me the Provost sent for help with translation so he could toast and thank me.  The remarks were brief and explained by a young woman whom I had never met.  The cups were raised and many congratulations and thanks were sent my way.  She asked if I wanted her to translate remarks from me. I began speaking in Armenian and thanked everyone and said I loved Armenia and its people, and I was happy to be here.  The shocked but happy looks at my infantile Armenian remarks were wonderful.  Especially nice was when the lead military officer smiled and came to me, filled my cup, and shook my hand. I stayed for many of the toasts but had hoped to have a little lunch before the day went on rather than cake.

 I do not remember now if it was Erine or Susanna who told me I could ride up to the celebration at the YELL Extreme Park early or wait for the faculty ride.  I asked which one Susanna was going to take and chose to go on the early ride with her.  I had a little over an hour before the bus, so I walked the few blocks into town to see one of our new volunteers at his NGO.

 Jesus works at an NGO called Info Tun.  He and his counterpart enjoy working together and do joint trainings.  They work together daily, planning and working on trainings and projects.  They were presenting a program from Education USA about entrance to American colleges when I arrived.  I was introduced as a fellow Peace Corps volunteer and a retired teacher. They asked if I wanted to speak but I chose to just watch and listen.  After about thirty minutes I excused myself hoping to find a shawarma or some type of quick lunch.  I settled for a fruit smoothie from a vendor in the park and hurried back to the University.

I got back to the University where I had seen some cafes for the students, but none were open because it was not really a school day.  I went inside out of the heat and waited where I knew there was a restroom and it was close to Erine’s office.  As I have discovered in Armenia, restrooms are a valuable commodity. They are not nearly as omnipresent as in America.  Pregnant women and older men like knowing where bathrooms are.  Erine saw me and was worried again because I was early.  I assured her as best I could that I was fine reading and waiting to go up to the park for the celebration.  She seemed a little calmer after my explanation.  

Time came and Susanna came and took me to the area where there was a large group of young women, now casually dressed to go to the celebration.  I am still in my slacks and tie.  They packed me in to one of the famous Armenian marshutnes and put me on the second row behind the driver.  I asked if I could sit in the seat next to him and they told me no one was allowed to sit there.  A few minutes later the last two girls on the marshutne sat next to me.  We drove about fifty meters and the driver stopped for another woman who promptly sat in the seat next to the driver.  I think she was the female  university faculty member who sponsored this girls' group.  As we drove along, the young women were doing what young women do and fretting over their hair and makeup in their compacts and taking many selfies. I quietly laughed to myself seeing the commonalities in young women everywhere.

We arrived at the YELL Extreme Park outside of Ijevan.  It is a beautiful place with horses and trails and a series of zip lines. Now, being an outdoor enthusiast, I was so excited to be there but looking at my attire, knew that I was in a spectator only world. Plus, I did not want to ever get too far away from Susanna because I had no idea what my exit strategy was.  I had been told I was going to a brief afternoon celebration which, as are all things Armenian, turned into something that started late and, I found out later, was going to go until around midnight.  Susanna told me that they would call a taxi for me when I needed one, but it would take extra time because we were all the way out at YELL Park.  

The young women all wandered off and I followed them to a giant open area where there were men setting up tables for the celebration.  There were female faculty members directing the men.  Things are similar everywhere with the women having a specific idea of how things should be and the men having to adjust their planned setup to meet the women’s requests.  It was fun to watch the banter that I understood without knowing the language, another universality of men being directed by women at such an event. I wandered off to find a little shade, a restroom and something to drink.

There was a group of buildings nearby.  One of the buildings was where tickets were purchased, and people were outfitted for the zip lines.  I would have loved to have gone zip lining.  Behind the building were some changing rooms that had restrooms. I found some covered picnic areas where there were other people having celebrations.  I discovered a large unoccupied rock in the shade after I found a small concession stand that sold water and soda.  At least my Armenian is good enough to ask for a bottle of water. I bought the water and went to sit out of the sun for a little while.  Near to me in the shade was an Iranian family on holiday.  It was interesting to watch their dynamics.  I had no idea when the celebration was going to actually start or what was going to happen, so I kept a close look at the open area.  I could feel how sunburned my face already was and did not relish the idea of much more time in the sun.

I saw a paddock with horses and a trail where the horses went.  I could see the stables where they were kept but it was a long walk over a bridge, and I was afraid to wander too far away from the main area. I walked to the fenced trail for the horses and watched them for a while.  There were some beauties and, of course, I saw a buckskin which I wanted to ride.  Five beautiful young colts pranced about the paddock area.   I was not dressed for riding however which did not matter as much to me as I was unsure of what I was allowed to do as part of the celebration group.  I also had to think of the Peace Corps safety rules about horseback riding.  I did not know if they had helmets just in case I was photographed on a horse.

I watched the food being delivered and placed on the tables as more people began arriving.  I offered to help carry but as the American papik, I was not allowed to help.  I saw a few more male faculty members and the provost arrive and I wandered up near the tables.  One of the faculty members beckoned me over and gave me some fruit.  I thanked him.  A few slices of apple never tasted so good.  It was the first solid food of the day. Everything was eventually set up and the party was begun by music from an Armenian DJ. The Provost took the microphone and made some remarks and people headed to the tables for the food.

The food was excellent with fruit, cheeses, sandwich like pastries and dessert pastries. I found some jingalov hats which is a bread filled with local herbs.  It has become one of my favorite Armenian foods.   I was beckoned over to one table that was surrounded by male faculty members and the provost.  There was serious cognac toasting going on there and I was invited to be part of it.   A faculty member who teaches history and spoke very good English talked to me for quite a while making me feel welcome. I enjoyed all of this very much, but the sun was baking me.  Dancing began and the people were having a wonderful celebration. 

It was getting close to 5:00 and I had been in the sun for several hours and was getting a bit tired.  I called Susanna and asked how long the celebration was going to go.  When she told me it might last until midnight, I decided to ask about the taxi back to Noyemberyan.   Peace Corps has a rule that we are not supposed to travel at night.   She met with Erine and I was asked to walk up to the parking lot with a woman who was not feeling well.  Erine had called a taxi and he was meeting us in the parking lot.  They walked us up to the taxi and I bade farewell to Susanna and Erine and climbed in the back seat with the ill woman taking the front.   We dropped her off in Ijevan by the University. I moved up to the front seat and was returned to Noyemberyan.   The long day came to a quiet although very sunburned, close.  The graduation was a wonderful event and so was the celebration afterwards. 

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 [JD1]