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.