Jody's Letters from the Road

As I began to know Narine the first few months in Noyemberyan, she told me often of a magical place that she called the wooden village.     Every time she spoke of it, she had the look of someone much older than she remembering sacred moments of a past well spent.   Her eyes would sparkle as though there was a candle inside illuminating the wrinkles of her brain to unfold the hidden mysteries.   A smile would creep upon her face like the smile of someone remembering the taste of their favorite dessert or a first kiss.   I wanted to know more, and she would always tell me one day we will visit, and she would tell me more.   In October, I was allowed to go with her family that has become like my family to celebrate her birthday.   She had selected the site of her celebration as the khachkar at the top of the mountain followed by a visit to places they played and the wooden village.   The day was so overcast and cold. I have documented that ...

Poetry Contest About the first week of March this year, I was contacted by the Peace Corps volunteer, Liz Baron, who oversaw the Peace Corps side of the National Poetry Recitation Contest. She asked me if I had time to assist the teacher in Koghb who was interested in having some students compete in the contest.  I assured Liz that I would be happy to help and asked her to share my contact information. Before I go on with the story of my NPRC adventure, I will need to explain the NPRC.  The contest is a partnership with the Peace Corps and the American University of Armenia and the Partnership & Teaching NGO in Goris.  Students in forms (grades) 7 -12 from all over Armenia have the opportunity to compete in regional contests.  The poems, or portions of speeches, are in English and the students are encouraged to improve their English pronunciations as well as comprehension through the pieces.  At the regional competitions, a winner from each form will ...

Խնամխոս, Khnamkhos is the best I can explain in English is an older Armenian custom where the family of a groom who wants a bride goes to the home of the bride with cognac, of course, to explain to the family that the young woman has been chosen to be this man’s bride and there is an inspection. I will fill in some more details but sitting and listening to Arevik talk about the custom was fascinating today.  But to tell you how we got on the subject, I must start at the beginning of the afternoon when Narine’s brother, Vahan, woke up around 1:15 in the afternoon and joined us having coffee on the front porch. Narine and I had attended the Noyemberyan Victory Day celebration at the WWII monument in town.   She invited me to join her for coffee after the celebration.   Narine’s tatik, Arevik, her mother, Irene, and I were sitting on the couch on the front porch when Narine appeared with the coffee.  She started laughing so hard because Arevik was speaking ...

A few days ago, I had an interesting conversation with my director, Hasmik, actually we do all the time but this one was political. She asked me a few questions regarding my opinions of the current political situation in Armenia.  I felt honored that she was curious about how I perceived the new Prime Minister and the changes she and many others hope he will bring to this country. What precipitated this conversation was the news that she shared with me that Prime Minister Pashinyan was visiting our little city of Noyemberyan in northern Armenia.  He was going to give a speech on the steps of city hall which is across from the little park I love and our office. She was hoping to have a chance to talk with him. I explained that my knowledge of the Armenian language was still too weak to know all of the promises made by the new government. I know he is continually saying the new Armenia.  I explained that I had some opinions of the political climate and what I have ob...

Santa and Winter Papik I believe it was in September when I moved from the host family home to my apartment in Noyemberyan. Then, I decided to quit shaving and grow my beard. After about a week, my white beard barely taking shape, Narine and Anushik decided I should let it grow long and become Zmir Papik, which means Winter Grandfather, an Armenian equivalence to Santa Claus.  At the time neither knew my familial ties to the Santa Claus legend in America.   I have dressed up as Santa a few times in America, but it was always with a fake beard and white wig. I decided that it would be fun besides the fact that I hate shaving or going to a new barber. The costume was begun, although I did begin wondering where I would find my size of a Santa outfit in Armenia and was there a significant difference between the two costumes. As the months went along, my hair and beard grew longer. Narine and Anushik both liked what I was doing.   However, the other ladies kept asking w...