Peace Corps Volunteers receive 48 vacation days during their 27 months of service. There tends to be three general strategies for the use of these days. 1. Take a bunch of little trips throughout your service to keep things fresh and interesting. 2. Take a few medium sized trips to balance optimal vacation immersion with occasional refreshers. 3. Take one very large trip in the middle to tide you over in between your first and second year. I chose the third, and while I'm very excited for my very cheap (hopefully) yet extensive trip, I'm also thinking my timing might be just a bit off.
PC service has many ups and downs and they usually follow a pattern. At mid-service, we are expecting a bit of a slump, which is good so we know it's normal when we start the downs. My slump hit earlier than many, and I was really feeling it in February/March. This was a blessing in disguise, because despite all the challenges, the cultural mishaps, the miscommunications, the variance of values, all of the indescribable awkward and difficult little things, I have realized I am so not ready to leave.
For a couple weeks now, I have reached a level of integration I didn't think would be possible for me. I am a larger woman, who isn't graceful, has short hair, 14 ear piercings, doesn't mind getting dirty or working up a sweat, and happens to prefer the way I look in more masculine clothes. Any one of these things super duper sticks out in Armenia, and I'm not even exaggerating. I had just accepted that my integration, something that is super stressed throughout all of our training, would be limited. I was wrong.
Let me tell you about today. Today was a magical day. Today was one of those days that you just have to sit down and take a minute to really appreciate how beautiful the day was. It wasn't any big thing. It was a bunch of little tiny bits of wonder, and though my descriptions won't fully explain how big each of these little things is in the context of my service and life in Armenia, I'm hoping all of them together will give you a little slice of the magic of today.
Walking to school today, I shared a pleasant hello with my favorite school supply store owner. The mini-bus I usually take saw me running to catch it before it passed, and actually stopped and even missed a green traffic light just to wait for me. At school, all of my teachers seemed genuinely happy to see me (a relatively new development) as they demanded I celebrate with them the engagement of one of the young teachers with some cake and cognac for breakfast. After, we had English club for teachers, and the teachers thanked me profusely for agreeing to teach them. One proud student (a 60-something art teacher) who learned French in grade school and never had any English before our 3 week long club told me, "Our teacher is the very good. We love you." After that club, I had another club with my young students and the kids pleaded for me to extend our optional English club another hour, and although I couldn't today, we agreed to meet a second day this week. On the way home, I stopped at my favorite shwarma place (a once a week indulgence I allow for myself), and my favorite shwarma guys gave me a very cool head nod and started my order before I could even get to the counter to ask (they even help me jump the line sometimes when the place is filled with young rowdy guys, a normal occurrence). I ran across the street to my local store and although you buy all the different types of items at different counters and I only needed one counter today, every clerk I passed said hi to me and the one clerk I did need didn't let an older man cut in front of me, a miraculous event in itself. Later I went out again to hit up the bank and run some other errands. I passed an English teacher I've worked with who gave me an enthusiastic English hello. I went to the post office, and one of the regulars kindly told me there was nothing with my name on it before I could even get the sentence fully out to ask. During my evening adult club, my club members complained about how bad it is for them, despite being good for me, that I will be gone so long. They protested with how much they will miss me. After club, my club member who has an impressive rank in the local police force (especially considering she's a woman), asked me to come to the police station with her tomorrow to teach all of her colleagues some basic English for an important welcoming ceremony they must put on. Upon walking up to my apartment complex, the kids who live in the buildings all around mine ran up to me, excited to use whatever English they had, and then more excited that I could understand and answer their Armenian questions too. We took selfies as each and every child very enthusiastically told me how old they were and what floor they lived on.
Let me tell you about today. Today was a magical day. Today was one of those days that you just have to sit down and take a minute to really appreciate how beautiful the day was. It wasn't any big thing. It was a bunch of little tiny bits of wonder, and though my descriptions won't fully explain how big each of these little things is in the context of my service and life in Armenia, I'm hoping all of them together will give you a little slice of the magic of today.
Walking to school today, I shared a pleasant hello with my favorite school supply store owner. The mini-bus I usually take saw me running to catch it before it passed, and actually stopped and even missed a green traffic light just to wait for me. At school, all of my teachers seemed genuinely happy to see me (a relatively new development) as they demanded I celebrate with them the engagement of one of the young teachers with some cake and cognac for breakfast. After, we had English club for teachers, and the teachers thanked me profusely for agreeing to teach them. One proud student (a 60-something art teacher) who learned French in grade school and never had any English before our 3 week long club told me, "Our teacher is the very good. We love you." After that club, I had another club with my young students and the kids pleaded for me to extend our optional English club another hour, and although I couldn't today, we agreed to meet a second day this week. On the way home, I stopped at my favorite shwarma place (a once a week indulgence I allow for myself), and my favorite shwarma guys gave me a very cool head nod and started my order before I could even get to the counter to ask (they even help me jump the line sometimes when the place is filled with young rowdy guys, a normal occurrence). I ran across the street to my local store and although you buy all the different types of items at different counters and I only needed one counter today, every clerk I passed said hi to me and the one clerk I did need didn't let an older man cut in front of me, a miraculous event in itself. Later I went out again to hit up the bank and run some other errands. I passed an English teacher I've worked with who gave me an enthusiastic English hello. I went to the post office, and one of the regulars kindly told me there was nothing with my name on it before I could even get the sentence fully out to ask. During my evening adult club, my club members complained about how bad it is for them, despite being good for me, that I will be gone so long. They protested with how much they will miss me. After club, my club member who has an impressive rank in the local police force (especially considering she's a woman), asked me to come to the police station with her tomorrow to teach all of her colleagues some basic English for an important welcoming ceremony they must put on. Upon walking up to my apartment complex, the kids who live in the buildings all around mine ran up to me, excited to use whatever English they had, and then more excited that I could understand and answer their Armenian questions too. We took selfies as each and every child very enthusiastically told me how old they were and what floor they lived on.
I have reached a point, even in a (relatively) large city, where I feel integrated. I no longer walk down the street, or anywhere for that matter, without recognizing someone and being warmly recognized in return. I don't think that I did anything to make this happen, except for maybe persevering through the days of cold shoulders, line cuts, and misunderstanding with patience. I think I can see some of the turning points though, and I want to share them because these were game-changers in my whole existence in Armenia.
Number One. Winning over the Teachers. At the end of the school year, a young teacher at my school approached me and asked if I would teach some English to a small group of teachers. I was honored. Like seriously. Up to this point, my interaction with other teachers was limited to Barev Dzez (hello), shy smiles, and a grand total of three attempts the entire school year to bring me into conversations that went by too fast for me to follow. The teacher posted a sign up sheet on the wall in the teacher's lounge, and we both expected only a few names from the younger teachers to pop up. It didn't take long for older, generally more stern and formal teachers to come up to me, almost bashfully asking if they could participate or if they needed any former English knowledge. I told every single one they were welcome. By the end of the week, we already had 15 names.
When I showed up the next week for club, I walked into the room and stopped in shock. Not only was the majority of my school's faculty there, but my Vice Principal and Principal were both also in attendance. School hierarchy is taken very, very seriously in Armenia, so my nerves instantly went on high alert and the other teachers instantly quieted down. All of a sudden, my laid-back summer time teacher club felt very formal and somber. Turns out, this was actually just what I needed. I asked the first question and my principal discreetly raised her hand in the back of the class. I called on her and she almost shyly answered and laughed at herself a little in the process. This was classroom environment magic. It broke all of the tension in the room and the rest of the teachers, myself included, all let out a breath. From then on, things were more friendly and casual, and when the teachers got too rowdy, it took two pen taps on the desk by the principal for everyone to instantly quiet down. She not only gave me permission to teach in my more relaxed style that day, but she completely took care of classroom management for me. It was an unbelievably kind gift, as it would have been inappropriate for me to be stern with teachers who were obviously my superiors in the hierarchy, but they would have lost respect for me if I couldn't keep the class on task. The principal came to most of the classes, but even the ones she couldn't make, the precedent had been set and each class was both productive and enjoyable.
This club made me real to my teachers. I was no longer the awkward foreigner in the corner who couldn't hold a decent conversation. The teachers were amazed at how much Armenian I could actually speak when given patience, and they started talking to me before and after class. I can now comfortably sit in a room with them and feel a part of it. Teachers ask me questions like they would ask each other. I even got called into the Principals office with a group of teachers the other day to be asked for assistance on a school project. It felt super cool.
Number One. Winning over the Teachers. At the end of the school year, a young teacher at my school approached me and asked if I would teach some English to a small group of teachers. I was honored. Like seriously. Up to this point, my interaction with other teachers was limited to Barev Dzez (hello), shy smiles, and a grand total of three attempts the entire school year to bring me into conversations that went by too fast for me to follow. The teacher posted a sign up sheet on the wall in the teacher's lounge, and we both expected only a few names from the younger teachers to pop up. It didn't take long for older, generally more stern and formal teachers to come up to me, almost bashfully asking if they could participate or if they needed any former English knowledge. I told every single one they were welcome. By the end of the week, we already had 15 names.
When I showed up the next week for club, I walked into the room and stopped in shock. Not only was the majority of my school's faculty there, but my Vice Principal and Principal were both also in attendance. School hierarchy is taken very, very seriously in Armenia, so my nerves instantly went on high alert and the other teachers instantly quieted down. All of a sudden, my laid-back summer time teacher club felt very formal and somber. Turns out, this was actually just what I needed. I asked the first question and my principal discreetly raised her hand in the back of the class. I called on her and she almost shyly answered and laughed at herself a little in the process. This was classroom environment magic. It broke all of the tension in the room and the rest of the teachers, myself included, all let out a breath. From then on, things were more friendly and casual, and when the teachers got too rowdy, it took two pen taps on the desk by the principal for everyone to instantly quiet down. She not only gave me permission to teach in my more relaxed style that day, but she completely took care of classroom management for me. It was an unbelievably kind gift, as it would have been inappropriate for me to be stern with teachers who were obviously my superiors in the hierarchy, but they would have lost respect for me if I couldn't keep the class on task. The principal came to most of the classes, but even the ones she couldn't make, the precedent had been set and each class was both productive and enjoyable.
This club made me real to my teachers. I was no longer the awkward foreigner in the corner who couldn't hold a decent conversation. The teachers were amazed at how much Armenian I could actually speak when given patience, and they started talking to me before and after class. I can now comfortably sit in a room with them and feel a part of it. Teachers ask me questions like they would ask each other. I even got called into the Principals office with a group of teachers the other day to be asked for assistance on a school project. It felt super cool.
Numero Dos. The Emily Mini-Fan Club. Another turn in my integration and service happened when the small children around my apartment spontaneously became my little fan club. I live in a large U of apartment buildings. In the center is a small park, and all of the children from the buildings are constantly running around, playing soccer, riding their bikes, or otherwise goofing off. My apartment is in the bottom of the U, so I pass these kids every single time I go in or out. For almost 9 months of this, there were stares and awkward silence every time I passed. They would all literally stop, stare, and ignore. My attempts at Armenian hello's were met with wide eyes and silence. To a lot of the smaller ones, I might as well have been from outer space. These kids had never seen a human even vaguely like me before. Then one day, one kid said "Hello". I smiled and said in very slow, clear English, "Hello. How are you?" The kids response was automatic because many kids learn this language chunk on their first day of English class and repeat it every single day after that. The kid replied, "I am fine. Thank you, and how are you?" I smiled really big and said, "I am good! Thank you!" The kid suddenly had a mob of children around him and they were all giggling. I flashed a big smile at them and continued on my way. I was officially no longer a big green scary alien.
I came back an hour and a half later after running a club. The fan club had officially been chartered. I was bombarded with an uncountable amount of hello's. The interactions to come would progress into more "how are you's" and other basic English questions, followed by the discovery that I could speak and understand Armenian. Now my apartment kids make every day better. I don't leave or come back without meeting smiles. They've volunteered to carry things for me. Helped a friend move all of her things into my apartment, and then helped her load the taxi as she moved back out. They ran around hunting down a lost taxi driver for me. They give me news items with pride, loving to be the ones to inform the American of what's going on. They all know which apartment is mine. They also all want me to know which ones are theirs. For all of the fear and dislike I felt in 9 months, it took less than a week for their obvious kindness and love to far surpass that. The best part is, the adults are starting to follow the kids. I get more Armenian hello's from neighbors, more offers of advice (a sign of caring here), and more shy waves and smiles, than I ever had before. This was a perfectly wonderful surprise in my service.
I came back an hour and a half later after running a club. The fan club had officially been chartered. I was bombarded with an uncountable amount of hello's. The interactions to come would progress into more "how are you's" and other basic English questions, followed by the discovery that I could speak and understand Armenian. Now my apartment kids make every day better. I don't leave or come back without meeting smiles. They've volunteered to carry things for me. Helped a friend move all of her things into my apartment, and then helped her load the taxi as she moved back out. They ran around hunting down a lost taxi driver for me. They give me news items with pride, loving to be the ones to inform the American of what's going on. They all know which apartment is mine. They also all want me to know which ones are theirs. For all of the fear and dislike I felt in 9 months, it took less than a week for their obvious kindness and love to far surpass that. The best part is, the adults are starting to follow the kids. I get more Armenian hello's from neighbors, more offers of advice (a sign of caring here), and more shy waves and smiles, than I ever had before. This was a perfectly wonderful surprise in my service.
Nombre Trois. Reconnecting with Friends. Being in Peace Corps and surrounded by a completely different culture sometimes feels as if I'm a completely different human than I was before. It feels as if, out of necessity, I slipped on a new persona that is now at least partially stuck on me forever. This can be disconcerting at times, and I didn't realize how much it felt as if I wasn't being completely myself until I unexpectedly reconnected with some friends stateside. Not only did those friends have a fresh take on the changes I've felt in myself, but they were able to give me a fresh take in processing Armenia and my service. I started to see more of the good things again. I started to be able to step outside of the right now and re-recognize the adventure that this will all be in the larger context of my life. I started to once again appreciate not only the ups, but the parts of the downs that help me grow and adapt and become more resilient than I ever imagined I could be. I also started to feel a bit more like myself. There's more to come on the friend front, but the point is, reconnecting with people is a magnificent thing.
Tiv Chors (Թիվ չորս). Accepting the Dinner Invites. When we first got to Armenia, we were fed non-stop. This lasted for months. Dinners were often stressful because the Armenian being spoken was too fast for me to understand and having food constantly pushed on me became a source of tension. When I moved into my own place, I stopped doing dinners. Made every excuse possible. No dinners. Recently, I finally started getting closer to some people, and despite my reservations, I said yes to a few dinner invites. The result? I have friends. Actual Armenian friends where I can be myself on a level I didn't anticipate in my service, mostly out of knowledge and carefully crafted respect of cultural differences. I ate at a fellow English teacher's house who I've helped out with a few clubs. She's a self-proclaimed lifelong learner and an inspiration here. She invited another teacher and her mentor, and I brought Caleb and Lauren. It was a blast. Then I finally made it to my counterpart's house for dinner with her family. The breakthrough in our relationship was immediately noticeable. It was amazing and an honor. I have every intention of going back. I also went over to dinner with another English teacher who is my age and more of just a friend. This led to my closest friendship here yet, and while there's more to come on that story too, it may have been my best decision in Armenia to date.
A lot has happened since that magical day. These breakthroughs continue to help, but of course the ups and downs still come. Leaving Armenia for my long vacation when I was at such a high point was hard. I wasn't ready to go, and I was nervous. I would still change the timing of that trip if I could have, despite it being it's own wonderful experience. Now I'm doing my best to hold onto these highlights as I move forward. There is so much more to come, but y'all have already tolerated quite a long post if you've made it this far.
Thanks for reading, Everyone.
Էմիլի
Love you, enjoy you deserve so much in life
ReplyDeleteWonderful post.
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