Armenian Humor

Maybe it's just the company I am with, but our bathroom's choice of toilet paper perfectly displays the humor here in Yerevan. Farthest to the left you have dark sand paper for "for real machos," next is "for normal asses" and finally for me... "paper for Euro-American soft asses."

Above our office toilet is an old Soviet gas mask.

Martiros Saryan

Yesterday I visted the Martiros Saryan museum in Yerevan. The museum was empty, but had very helpful guides. To save energy/money they keep most of the lights off until folks come in to view Saryan's pieces. He was born in 1880 to Armenians from Ani (in current day Turkey), who had moved to Crimea. He trained in Moscow and moved to Armenia after the genocide to bring artistic life to a disenchanted people.

The museum holds many of his self portraits includeing him as a young man with bushy black eyebrows and fluffy black hair and then many paintings of him his old age. Saryan was known for his landscapes many of them capturing Egypt and Persia. The Soviet establishment had mixed feeling about him. Though he was a member of the Academy of artists of the USSR his patriotism was questioned in 1948 in the Soveit Art Journal for having an "Armenianized version of French bourgeois formalism.'

The below picture - "Ararat and the Arch of Charents" was painted in 1958.

In honor of Saryan, the city has built a statue for him. Keeping in his tradition of lovely landsapes, the weekends bring local artists who display easle upon easle of their paintings around the Saryan statue.

Shuka

Instead of a full day of work yesterday, I was whisked away after lunch by my former professor at Northwestern who connected me with the documentary company. We jumped in the company's Russian military jeep (purchased a few years back) to the sprawling Shuka market south of downtown Yerevan. Shuka means market in Armenian. My old professor wanted to buy enough food for a feast.

We started with 10 kilos of trout. The process to purchase the trout was a a violent one. The fish owner scooped them out of their holding tanks into plastic baskets where they flopped about. I was convinced I would have to watch them slowly suffocate to death. Instead, the fish market man picked each one up, one by one, and struck the fish with a slab of wood, crack, right to the head. I guess it was the humane way out. We then purchased 10 kilos of cray fish. These guys are are in the lobster family. They remain alive for quite a long time. We proceeded to the butcher's sections where we got lamb and chicken. Then onto buy cucumbers, tomatoes, radishes, peaches, cherries, nectarines, figs, and watermelon.

Side note: I had a watershed moment, breaking through the wall of the fig newton experience, to devour my first fresh fig.

We eventually made it back to the professor's home where he poured the fifty or so crayfish into his tub to keep them alive and also give them an extra cleaning. The professor and his wife worked away while I drank Belgian beer --- there is a Belgian Armenian store near by that sells cases of Leffe. I taught the nieces and nephews of my hosts how to play black jack -- maybe not the best cross cultural sharing, but it did help me learn how to count.

We then proceeded to feast.

Armenian Coffee

After one week in Armenia, I have learned that these people love their coffee. They drink a small, but strong cup. During work hours we drink a morning round and a late afternoon round. All without the assistance of a trusty coffee maker. I have quickly become addicted. Like an espresso, no milk is used.



Directions:

• Use an espresso cup.
• For every cup of water mix a teaspoon of finely ground coffee and a teaspoon of sugar (folks here like it sweet, I rather use 1/3 teaspoon or no sugar).
  
• Stir together in pot, put mixture on fire and continue to stir.
  
• Right when it starts to boil take it off heat (if not it the mix will bubble up and spill over onto the stove).
• Bring pot back to heat. As it begins to boil a second time take it off heat, let the the pot settle.
  
• Pour.
  

The coffee grinds will float to the bottom of the cup and form a sediment. Like in other traditions, including Greek and Turkish, Armenians like to read coffee grinds. If you have folks over you can flip the cup onto the saucer then back to right side up. You can't read your own grinds, but have someone else interpret the coffee patterns left on on the inside of the cup for you.

If you are doing the reading use your creative powers to weave a convincing fortune. Just in case, here are some helpful, albeit suspect suggestions on how to read the grounds:

Hill, Mountain: high ambitions
Spider: unexpected money
Sun: good health
Tent: year full of traveling
Triangle: something unexpected
Hats: Someone is trying to cover something up
Rocks: Obstacles in your path to success either real or imagined
Trees: People find you noble

Lake Sevan: Paragliding

Sunday marked my first expedition out of Armenia's capital of Yerevan. A bunch of folks from the documentary company I am working for drove to Lake Sevan, Armenia's largest lake. Vardan, the head of the company, is an avid paraglider. He is a member of the Yerevan paragliding club - a random group of adventurous souls.

Paragliders have a harness and can control their shoot through an extensive string network. Depending on the wind, one can fly for a quite a long time. Something called "lift" is involved and like a bird you can literally catch a wave of air and float. Flying requires intensive training - definitely worth the exhilarating experience.

Lake Sevan is breathtaking, changing colors quickly between Caribbean turquoise to Atlantic navy blue. The lake was beaten up during the Soviet times due to their hydroelectric ambitions, but Armenian enviros are working to restore it.

As for my life here, I am starting to understand the documentary business and have lined up my first Armenian lesson this Thursday with a tutor from Yerevan University. The lovely Armenian alphabet has 39 letters, 36 of which were introduced in the early fifth century by Mesrop Mashtots. The O and the lowercase H are the only letters of the alphabet that correlate directly with their Latin counterparts. Uphill battle. Wish me luck.

First Weekend in Yerevan

Before arriving in Armenia, I made promises to myself, friends and family that I would create a blog. Google makes it terribly easy for all humans to bore the world with rubbish. Despite my fear of being trite, I am happy to join the club. Peaches & Pomegrantes will serve as a way to keep track of my life in a new country tackling a new job and language as well as keeping myself connected.

Regarding the title, Armenia is known for its apricots and figs, but so far I have been taken by its peaches. Markets in Yerevan are selling peaches that border on the size of grapefruits. I had my first one yesterday and its sweetness had my taste buds dancing and demanding more. My first taste of pomegranate wine today sealed the deal. This country, as well as the whole region, is blessed by the fruit gods.

That's all for tonight. Must rest up for paragliding tomorrow.