Vardavar: Armenia, I didn't know you like to get wet.

Vardavar fun in Republic Square

98 days after Easter Armenia gets wet.  Kids throw buckets of water on unsuspecting strangers, fountains turn into swimming pools, and water rains down from balconies onto pedestrians below. This day is called Vardavar, and it is a festival of drenching complete strangers with water. (H/t to Rob for the photos.)

 

 

Vardavar started as a pagan homage to Astghik, the goddess of love, beauty, and water, and now the Armenian Church also claims the day.  The celebration is historically linked to the harvest, but now it's a chance to douse anyone you want with water.

Swan Lake water war

I grabbed my mop bucket around 12pm and headed to Swan Lake (a shallow man made lake in Yerevan's city center) for an epic water war as advertised on Facebook.  Before leaving my apartment, my friend coaxed the security guard out of his booth, and I threw a bucket of water on him.  This was my first Vardavar dousing and I was a nervous hiding with my bucket behind a bush, but after the drenching he just smiled and gave me a thumbs up, a veritable green light for the day's wet mayhem.

Swan Lake was teeming with young people, thrashing about and dumping water on each other.  It didn't take me long to join in, and I soon decided to drench my first dry stranger.  As I snuck up behind an old man with my bucket a young kid spied me and he quietly followed suit.  When we dumped our buckets on the old guy's head, he quickly spun around and cursed us.  The kid and I ran back to the lake for safety, and the old man grumbled on down the street.  I then realized that although the whole city knows it's Vardavar, everyone isn't playing. 

I joined a gang of American friends and we roamed the streets with buckets and Tupperware containers like a pack of wet dogs. We stopped at Yerevan's many stone drinking fountains to refill, often enduring the watery wrath of the band of kids that already staked claim to the fountain.  Occasionally, cars would drive by, lower their windows and spray water from water guns.  If we were quick on the draw, we would fling water back at them.  Balconies were dangerous.  Water could rain down at anytime with smug Yerevanis smiling down with empty buckets from their safe perches above.

Public Transportation was not spared

On Vardavar, Yerevan's streets were full of soggy kids, a few dry but weary adults, and the thrill of a citywide prank.  The temperature broke 100F that day, and I can't think of a better time to get wet.

Remembrance Day

Eternal Flame at the Armenian Genocide Memorial

In 1915, 1.5 million Armenians were murdered in the final days of the Ottoman Empire.  April 24th is observed by Armenians all over the world as Genocide Remembrance Day to commemorate the victims of the 1915 massacre.  In Yerevan, thousands of people walk to the Tsitsernakaberd Genocide Memorial on April 24th to lay flowers at the eternal flame.   

Armenian Genocide Memorial

Armenian Genocide recognition is one of the most emotionally fraught foreign policy issues alive today, and it is a major reason why the Turkey-Armenia border remains closed.  Turkey rejects the term genocide, saying there was no premeditation in the deaths, no systematic attempt to destroy a people.  In Turkey it remains a crime — “insulting Turkishness” — to raise the issue of what happened to the Armenians. 

As a Presidential candidate, Barack Obama vowed to recognize the 1915 atrocities as genocide if elected to the White House, but he has never uttered the word "genocide" while President.  Over the weekend President Obama delivered his Armenian Remembrance Day statement.  Turkey deemed it too strong; Armenia stated it was not enough.

The 12 slabs surrounding the Eternal Flame symbolize the 12 lost Armenian Provinces in present day Turkey

I am not writing this entry to cast judgment.  This issue is not for me to decide.  But I feel compelled to share this very important issue with friends and family back home.   April 24th marks a devastating chapter in Armenia's history, and we must keep its memory alive to honor the victims and ensure the terrible mistakes of the past never repeat themselves.  

Iranians flock to Yerevan for Norwuz

Iranian tourists in Yerevan

It's springtime, and that means Iranians in Yerevan.  Over 10,000 Iranians are expected to visit Yerevan during Norwuz or the Persian New Year.  Iranians come to Armenia to ditch their headscarves, enjoy outdoor concerts, and experience affordable, visa-friendly Armenia.  There aren't a lot of tourists in Yerevan in March, so the camera toting, stylish Persians aren't hard to spot.

Concert poster. Note Farsi in the bottom right corner.

I heard smatherings of Farsi while strolling the city center this weekend, but it wasn't only Iranian tourists enjoying the year's first warm weather.  Everyone was out.  Freedom Square was teeming with people, the rickety attraction rides in the park by my apartment were creakily swooshing kids through the air for the first time in 2011, and ice cream stands sprouted out of the sidewalks. 

Freedom Square

With the influx of Iranian tourists and thousands of Russians making the trip to Yerevan for the Armenia-Russia soccer match on Saturday, hotels are filled to capacity.  It's fixing to be a fun weekend.

Tsaghkadzor - Ski Armenia!

Tsaghkadzor is Armenia's only ski resort.  It's a 50-minute drive from Yerevan and worth the kamikaze marshrutkas whizzing by on bald tires. 

Tsaghkadzor boasts wide groomed slopes, 3 new European-made chairlifts, and high quality rental equipment.  I rented skies and poles for the day for $14.00, and all-day lift passes cost $27.00.

The 4-chair lift

Maybe the best part of Tsaghkadzor is the lack of people.  You can ski from the top of the mountain to the base and only pass a handful of skiers and snowboarders.  The international presence is high, and I overheard a lot of Russian speakers.            

Nick and friend

Tsaghkadzor isn't without its quirks. First, the runs aren't steep.  I couldn't find a piste with a gradient steeper than a Blue, and you may find yourself pulling your snowboarding friends along the flat stretches. 

 

Mountain Base

When you alight from a chairlift in Tsaghkadzor- watch out!  You will not find a small slope gliding you down and away from the chair's path.  When you get off in Tsaghkadzor the ground is flat and the chair doesn't slow down while scramble out of its path.

The snowcats groom at all times and will run you over.  My buddy and I were taking a tight corner and were nearly Sonny Bonoed by a snowcat moving up the mountain. 

The quirks don't dampen the fun, however, and I had a blast both times! I'll be heading back.

Fried Speakers

In the excitement of receiving my things from America I rushed to hook up my computer speakers and fried them when I plugged them into the wall.  I was so excited to introduce music into my apartment that I overlooked the 120V stamped on the back of the  subwoofer.  I killed my speakers.

A friend at work tipped me off to a guy in the IT department that is a electronics whiz and has a history of rescuing circuit-cursory Americans.

I left my speakers in the IT room earlier in the week with a note, and yesterday a burly guy with white hair came from the bowels of the IT server room and showed me my fried transformer.  In broken English he explained the price to have the transformer repaired ($54) -- he will rewind new copper wires by hand and make a new casing -- and that he investigated my speakers from the inside and assured me they're a good product.

As he left my office he said in a thick Russian accent, "My consultation here is finished."

Old world knowledge of electronics is cool.  In America we'd just pitch the broken wares and buy new.  I'd be guilty.  With all this talk over recycling, shouldn't we put more emphasis on repairing old equipment?

In the meantime, I'll make do with live music.  Here's a photo from last night's blues show:

Suren Arustamyan Band at Stop Club

Food Entry #1: Khash

  

Khash (rhymes with posh) is more than a meal, it's a process.  You don't step out for khash.  This is a planned event, which will likely take the better part of the day.

Khash checklist:

1.    Winter - you only eat khash when it's cold, preferably with snow on the ground

2.    Friends and family around a table

3.    Heaps of garlic

4.    A bottle of vodka

5.    A post-khash nap

All of these requirements imbue khash with a special quality.  Khash is a food you do, and even if it gets the best of you, which if often does, you love every second.

Crumbling dried lavash

Khash is beef stock made from cow legs and feet.  It's served in a deep bowl with a floating section of bone.  I identified the cleavage of a hoof on my bone portion, but the hours of boiling rendered the bone into a soft white mass.  You take the bone out when you eat khash, and place it under lavash to keep it warm for gnawing on later.

To khash you add salt, fresh garlic that is soaking in more khash, and crumbled dried lavash.  I was instructed to add enough dried lavash to turn the stock to a porridge-like consistency.  And if you really want to eat it properly, you tear off a piece of lavash and use it as an oven mitt to scoop khash into your mouth. 

Every few bites eat a parsley sprig, a cheese square, or a green onion spear and join in the toast.  After cleaning your bowl, there's the warm bone mass waiting for you under the lavash!

My Armenian friends tell me that khash was once a peasant dish.  Someone else told me it's historically a wealthy person's meal, so I'm not sure whom to believe.  Suffice it to say that now, khash is a festive winter meal enjoyed all over Armenia.

Saturday morning khash bash

In the end, I really liked it.  Khash is good.  Tasty garlic beef broth, with all the fresh lavash you can eat.  What's not to love?  But the nap and de-garlicing period is crucial.  I crashed the second I got home.    

The End

Noah's Mountain

Mt. Ararat, morning shot

Mt. Ararat at dusk

On my 26th day in Yerevan, the hazy valley cleared and I could finally see Mt. Ararat.  It's two peaks dominated the skyline and took my breath away.  I felt a connection to the beautiful mountain.  The mountain looms over Yerevan and has a sobering presence, like a loving but scrupulous father.   Even when it disappears from sight, you feel its gravity and you know it's there, like a father's admonition weighs on the conscious of a child.


Mt. Ararat is in Turkey and rises close to the borders of Armenia, Iran, and the Nakhchivan exclave of Azerbaijan.  According to the book of Genesis, Noah's ark came to rest on Mt. Ararat. 


Mt. Ararat is the national symbol of Armenia, and it has appeared on its coat of arms since the first modern Armenian Republic was established in 1917, shortly after the Russian Revolution.

Armenia's current Coat of Arms (notice Noah's Ark)

Armenia's Coat of Arms, 1936-1991

Mt. Ararat is a compelling and stunning facet of life here.  And it has captured my imagination like it has done to everyone that experiences it. 

Armenian Wrestling Championships

Armenians love wrestling, and they're good at it.  Today I went to the Armenian National Wrestling Championships and saw the country's best compete for a spot on the national team.  Competition was fierce, and as the day progressed the energy in the gymnasium mounted.  Many of the wrestlers hailed from Gyumri, Armenia's second largest city, and when pitted against a Yerevan-based opponent, the onlookers cheered adamantly for their hometown lad.  Nobody looked more engrossed then the young, aspiring wrestlers.  They sat in the front rows and leaned over the railings to get closer to the action.

Today's event was Greco-Roman, but Armenia has been successful internationally in all styles.  Armenia wrestlers captured 2 bronze medals in Beijing in 2008 and one gold and one silver in Atlanta. 

Who needs the Australian Open on TV?  (Well, if I had cable, I'd like to watch that too.)             

Cultural Exchange at the French Embassy

Last night I attended my first official diplomatic event: a piano concert at the French Embassy. 

What appeared at first glance to be old guard European diplomats enjoying Liszt and Ravel turned out to be something much more important.  The piano concert was part of a music exchange between France and Armenia, where French masters train with Armenian music students, culminating in the opportunity for two Armenians to travel free-of-charge to Normandy to compete in the 3rd European Piano Championships.  I tip my chapeau to the French Embassy for a wonderful event of cultural exchange through music.

Now you may be wondering why a lowly American diplomat is invited to a piano concert at the French Embassy.  The truth is that I wasn't invited.  The U.S. Ambassador was invited, but as often is the case, she had to regretfully decline the invitation, and the onus fell on someone else.  I happily accepted.

I arrived at the French Embassy and followed the stream of people flowing through the front door and up the stairs to the reception room.  This was a decidedly European affair.  People greeted each other in German, French, and Armenian, and I felt slightly alone not knowing any one.

Most guests came in pairs, and the crowd was an older, dapper bunch.  As I waited in my chair for the show to start, couples glided into the parlor, shaking hands and smiling at familiar faces on the way to their seats, a ritual they've probably perfected in capital cities all over the world.

The French Ambassador opened the night with a short speech, and I could here his French accent through his Armenian remarks.  Four pianists played for us, three Armenians and a Frenchman, and they played brilliantly.  My favorite piece was Ravel's Scarbo (Gaspard de la nuit)- pure keyboard acrobatics.

After the concert, we were quickly ushered to tables in the back of the room for refreshments.  A few minutes later, the chef appeared in his white toque, smiling and nodding as we inhaled his salmon and dill crostinis and tiramisu bites. 

I met a local radio DJ and a French precious stone merchant and before leaving introduced myself to the French Ambassador. 

Tomorrow: The Armenian National Wrestling Championships

First Impressions

Greetings from Yerevan! 

I'm here, safe and sound, and tucked into a handsome flat in the city center.  I'm new to this city and country and have heaps more to see and learn, but here are my first impressions:

Yerevan

Yerevan in winter is cold and hazy.  It's not a big city.  A ringed boulevard circumscribes the center, and most places are within walking distance.

Men mill about the streets in black jackets.  Women bustle by, adding slightly more color to the city's palette.  The roads are hectic.  Soviet-era Ladas compete for the road with luxury SUVs, and drivers make up the rules as they go.  The cafes have boarded up for the winter, and in those that are still open, patrons hold coffee cups to their lips and stare outside at chilled pedestrians.  I get the feeling that Yerevanians are biding time until warmer months, but right now, the city has a languid, almost dreamy, quality.  The perpetual chill and haze temper the city, keeping it calm and quiet until spring's awakening.

The shopkeepers have been friendly.  They smile at my attempts to communicate in Armenian, and they don't miss a beat when I revert to Russian.  Actually, all of the Armenians I've met have been friendly, quick to give directions or welcome you to their country.   

Yerevan is in a valley, and haze obscures the highlands surrounding the city.  Only one day since my arrival has Mt. Ararat been visible, but it's imposing beauty took my breath away.  The mountain's two peaks fill the sky south of the city, with the scale and solemnity of a celestial body.   I look to the south every day to catch another glimpse of the beautiful mountain.

Yerevan's buildings range from stately opera houses to modern glass offices to Soviet-block apartments to vacant shells.  While wandering the streets I've noticed modest concrete homes hiding behind modern condo complexes.  Many of Yerevan's buildings are made from beautiful tufa stone, which ranges in color from reddish pink to peach to tan and can be carved into ornate patterns and images.  The tufa buildings that surround Republic Square -- a large plaza by my apartment -- glow apricot at night.

Republic Square

My Place

My apartment is a clean, European styled flat.  It has 2 bathrooms, 2 bedrooms, a large storage/utility room, joined living/dining area, and a kitchen.  One facade faces a park and has two little balconies.  The other facade abuts a dilapidated office building, from which, middle-aged men chain-smoke and watch me cook the morning's eggs.  My place is located in the city center and is a 5-minute walk from Republic Square.  Until my stuff arrives, the walls are bare and shelves empty.  I look forward to decorating and making this apartment my home. 

I will update my blog often and share my personal interaction with my new city and its people.  This lifestyle is an adventure, one that, I want to share with you.