A Taste of Village Life

I live in a small village of about 2,500 people. There are 8 other Peace Corps volunteers living with host families in my village. The rest are placed in similar villages nearby. The following are a few short and completely true stories of standard days living in the village I'm in.

1. After Lauren and I went to church one Sunday with my family, the driver (who I think was my host dad's brother's grandson or some other distant relative who got volun-told to drive his relatives to church) stopped at some random spot in the village that was definitely not our house or our street. Next thing I know, we are all getting out of the car and walking into the closest house. While we were very obviously unexpected guests, we were all greeted with the utmost hospitality. Within five minutes we were all seated at a set table, and homemade dried fruit, walnuts, and compote (homemade natural fruit juice) were served. Within ten minutes, soortch (Armenian coffee, similar to Turkish coffee), fresh sliced oranges and apples, and a healthy spread of candies and desserts were served. We stayed for about 45 minutes, talking, eating, and drinking the entire time. Then with many gracious niceties, our posse left, but we gained one of the young girls who lived in the house and spoke a little English. She is about 10 years old and her, Lauren, and I were in the middle of a bilingual effort at discussing Armenian history and American history.

Back on the random village street, im papa starts walking. We all follow, but next thing I know, our new slightly larger group is entering another house. Again, it was in no way evident that we were expected, and again, a magical feast of coffee, tea, treats, and fruits suddenly appeared in record time. At each house, a big introduction was made of my host parents' two new American daughters (my host mom and dad have claimed Lauren, too, although she has an amazing host family of her own). And again, as we left, we gained another traveler. 

This process happened until we reached our home, where of course, we were now the ones making treats and coffee quickly appear for those we picked up along the way. There have been other house visits in a similar fashion, and from what I understand, it is the sincere privilege of the host to be able to serve visitors and feed their friends.

2. Somehow related to me is a young girl, about 12 years old, named Astrik. (My host dad has 11 brothers and sisters, and I know our family is ginormous. I also know I've been introduced to so many people who are somehow part of my Armenian family that I would literally need a map drawn out and labeled to remember who is related how.) Astrik comes over every few days, and while she does not speak any English, she likes me for some reason. Either that, or she just likes feeling smarter than me because I can barely make grammatically correct sentences, which she can do in her sleep. Regardless, I really like Astrik. She's spunky and independent and seemingly careless. Side note - Children are really well respected here and can basically do whatever they want in the village, and they can do it safely, because there isn't a single person here who doesn't understand that children are precious. It is common knowledge that the whole village is looking out for each and every child.

Anyway, back to Astrik. Astrik likes to help me study. Well, she likes to try to help me study until she remembers how slow I am at speaking Armenian and she throws her hands up in a "God help this woman" kind of defeat. One day, Astrik came over and I had my flash cards out. On one side, I wrote the words in Armenian, on the other was the English translation. Astrik quickly figured out that if she held up the card so I could see the English and she could see the Armenian, she could actually help quiz me. This became an endlessly entertaining game to her, for which I am eternally grateful, as quizzing is one of the best ways I learn. Whenever I struggled on a word, she would give me the first letter. If that wasn't enough, she quickly lost her patience, told me the whole word, and put it in the "re-quiz" pile. If I knew the word, she would put it in the "good-job" pile. Astrik must have really been enjoying herself, because the game was not over until I got every single card into the "good-job" pile. While I was definitely getting tired by the end, let me tell you that nothing compares to being enthusiastically told apres and jishta (basically, great job!) by a very opinionated young girl.

3. Let me just preface this story with a disclaimer - my host dad comes off a little strong sometimes, but he is secretly a big softy (I'll delve into this more in a later post, I think). Warning - if you are an American, work for the Peace Corps, or my host dad likes you as a person, do not walk past my house unless you mean to be detained for not-optional coffee and treats. My host family's kitchen window faces the street, and we always sit in the kitchen. Plus side, I always know what the weather is like and I meet Lauren every day as she walks past so we can go to our lessons. Maybe not so plus side, my host parents know everything that happens in the area.

One day, a fellow trainee, C, was walking by the house. He was just going for a leisurely stroll around the village. Im papa sees him and loudly says a bunch of words to me of which I got the gist was, "You need to go invite C in for coffee right now." I go outside and ask C if he'd like to come in and meet my host family. C replies that he was just enjoying the rare occasion of solitude and was having a nice walk. I start to tell C that that sounds wonderful and I don't want to stop him from his solitude opportunity (it's a rare commodity here), when my host dad comes out of the house, and in no uncertain terms, demands that C must come in and have coffee. Of course, C graciously alters his plans and comes in. We had a good time, and C later said positive things about my host parents, but seriously, this is a pattern.

A few days later, Lauren and I were hanging out with my host parents and fellow trainee M walks by. I don't remember where he was going, but I'm pretty sure he had a purposeful direction. M was, of course, told he must come in. An hour later, Lauren, M, and I are all learning how to play nardi (backgammon) through us rolling the dice and my host dad pretty much making all the moves anyway and occasionally letting us guess which move we should make. It was a blast though, full of jokes, laughter, and hilarious communication attempts. M said he had a good time and thoroughly enjoyed himself.

This has not only happened to us trainees with our inadequate language skills, but also to HCN's (Host Country Nationals). My Language and Cultural Facilitators have been stopped, Lauren's host sisters have been stopped, and I'm pretty sure there hasn't been a single occasion of Lauren walking by our house uninterrupted. Everyone always leaves laughing, but it is definitely an interesting dynamic.

This post has gotten quite lengthy, so thank you to anyone who has stuck through it. There's so much more to say!!! I will end here though, with just a couple final thoughts. Village life definitely has it's drawbacks, but there is a sense of loyalty and community here on a scale much larger than anything I have experienced. It makes me feel safe and constantly cared for. I do miss some of the novelties that come with living in a more populated area, but not so much that I am in any way unhappy, at least not yet. Additionally, living in such a connected, close-knit area, us as Peace Corps volunteers see the very direct influence that our presence has. Part of that influence has been offering alternatives for some of the more traditional ideologies, not necessarily offered as "a better way" but as "another option." I have so, so much more to say on that, and I promise some day I will get to it.

Lav mna, im enkerner! (Stay well, my friends!)

Emily