Swearing in Ceremony

Today we swore in officially as Peace Corps Volunteers. There was a whole ceremony for it- in fact, we spent all day yesterday practicing for the ceremony. Which I thought was rather silly, but I've never been a fan of this type of event. I wanted Bryn Mawr to just mail me my diploma.

You can decide for yourself if the day of practice was worth it: the entire ceremony was video taped, and posted on YouTube for you to watch. The one things that might make me rethink my position on the ceremonial aspect of the day- that is, stretching into several hours what could have been accomplished in 15 minutes- was how much significance the event was given by Armenia. There were lots and lots of press photographers there, and every Armenian news station fan footage of the event on the evening broadcast. Given this kind of attention, putting a commensurate level of effort into the ceremony is a sort of mark of respect for Armenia and its people. Like wearing a suit to an interview. I might think that the kind of significance people place on clothes is ridiculous, but dressing professionally is another way of showing the parties with whom you interact that you respect them. Just so with the swearing in ceremony.

As far as the swearing-in itself: although it was a little weird to promise to defend the constitution against enemies foreign and domestic as a Peace Corps Volunteer, I admit that taking the oath did feel solemn and significant. The pledge we took in Armenian on the other hand, felt a little silly. For one thing, I have idea what was said. I could have promised Armenia my first born child and not known it. We were given transliterated copies of the pledge that morning, which helped a little as we all muddled along trying to pronounce the super long polysyllabic words after our pledge leader. But apart from a word here and there, and the last sentence, we were mostly just repeating jibberish. 

In any case, it's official- I'm a real PCV now.

Fancy supermarkets in Yerevan

So, this week provided us with our first chance to really explore the luxuries available in the capital city of Yerevan. And oh,what luxuries we found. We can't afford to buy any of them, but just knowing that they're there is a comfort... 

Knitting

For the past few weeks, all of my spare time has been dedicated to knitting. I've wanted to make a gift for each member of our host family- although I don't know how well the "hand-knit gift" translates, culturally. At home, a handmade give shows time and effort. Here, it might just be seen as cheap. I hope not. In any case:

I made Haikushik a had that I really like. I'm going to have to remain myself a hat from this same pattern at some point in time. Here I am, modeling the hat (photo credit to Sam, who also insisted on getting a view from the back):

I also made Goqor a hat. I think that it would have felt a little boring and light except that I modified the pattern to be knit in 2 colors in a fair isle style. The 2 colors give it some visual interest, and the stranded knitting gives it additional weight, making it feel warmer and more substantial. 

Zahak and Alla both got scarves. Zahak's scarf was a simple lace pattern that was complex enough to make the fabric interesting, but not so lacy as to feel feminine. It's a little short, but I was running out of yarn, so it is what it is. 

I'm really proud of Alla's scarf- it's not something I'd want for myself, but it fits her style perfectly. I'm really glad it turned out so well. Alla has been amazing to us while we've lived with her, and we owe her so much. I really wanted to give her a gift she would like, and I think the scarf will really fit the bill. 

Grampa George got a pair of fingerless mittens. I don't know if they're a particuarly well suited gift for him, but they're what I could do in the time (and with they yarn) that I had. They turned out okay, but I don't think that it will matter that they're not stunning. Grampa George isn't exactly picky about his clothes. 

The last member of the family, Mets Haikush, was also going to get a set of fingerless mittens (I liked to order of it: hats for the kids, scarves for the parents, fingerless mittens for the grandparents), but then I realized that mittens weren't a very good gift for her. Mets Haikush had a stroke sometime in the past, and as a result no longer has the use of her left arm or hand, and depends on a cane to walk. So, not only is she unable to put on a pair of mittens without help, but having a slippery knit surface between her good hand and er cane seems like a good way to invite a potentially fatal fall. So, instead I decided to make her a simple muffler. She can put it on with one hand, and it will stay on and not cause problems as she walks around the house. It is the piece I'm least proud of, but, like Grampa George's gloves, I don't think that it will make much difference to Mets Haikush. 

So, these are the gives with which we'll be leaving our Host Family when we go to Sisian. I don't know that they will really communicate how much their hospitality and kindness has meant to Sam and me, I hope they know anyway.

Walking through the Fields

We took another walk through the grape fields today. the weather has changed and the harvest has passed, making it a very different experience than last time. There were none of the lizards, for one thing. Nor were there any people working in their fields. It was nice to be along together- being alone has been a scarce commodity since coming to Armenia.

We walked through an apricot orchard, where the leaves were turning from a light gren to a bright yellow, and then sat for a while on the side of a small stream- used in summer for irrigation, but now just being picturesque. 

It was a really relaxing afternoon. I will miss this part of Shahumyan when we move.

Ice cream

Today I had my first honest-to-God legit ice cream since arriving in Armenia. I don't think that I have ever gone this long without ice cream in my life. It was amazing #ConditionsOfHardship

Winter is coming to Shahumyan

We have watched over the past several weeks as the snow line on Mount Ararat has crept steadily closer and closer to our little village. The weather has changed from unbearably hot and dry to  cold and rainy. 

Clothes which dried in a few hours on the line when we first arrived now take several days- when they can be  dried outside at all. Every available surface in our room has been transformed into a makeshift laundry-line several times at this point

This morning we woke to find a fine layer of frost coating the garden, and it felt like the rainy autumn might give way to winter at last. 

Like a crazy person,  I rushed out into the garden in my pajamas to take pictures before the frost melted. The family was horrified and are convinced that I'm going to die of cold- or worse- not be able to have children. (Apparently cold goes straight to your uterus here). 

But I did get some pretty awesome photos from the outing, so we'll call it an even trade.

Rainy Day in Shahumyan