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.