tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44110779025201373692024-03-12T18:48:26.141-07:00KazariansInArmeniaUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger112125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-73063773258243477512009-05-25T09:09:00.000-07:002009-05-25T09:21:12.835-07:00Bringing Armenia Home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/ShrFW0ngojI/AAAAAAAAAT4/erVBt-2EMDI/s1600-h/CIMG2915.JPG"></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span>Although we are not in Armenia right now, I, Kalem, continue to incorporate Armenian village life into our "county island" city life. We have increased our chickens from 10 before Armenia to about 20 now. Recently, we got a mother sheep with two baby girl lambs that were born on Easter. This was in exchange for butchering services (of which I learned in Armenia) of this same mother's offspring from last year. Actually, the son impregnated both the mother and the sister! Our son Frank when explaining how we have a mother and babies with out a father, he gladly offers, "we ate the dad!" This mother will probably also fall under my knife in about a month or two, once the lambs are properly weaned (let me know if anyone is interested in watching). <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span>There are a few of the older and fatter chicken that I think I would like to kill as well. One especially the alpha hen of the group, manages to get into the neighbors yard but can't get back into ours. Pretty much the list for being slaughter ready on our egg farm is as follows: 1. turning out to be a rooster (12 chickens died this way that we raised from chicks, in addition to the two quail we had), 2. segregation, not mixing with the other hens (2 this way) 3. being of age and not producing eggs. (same two) 4. Having some disease (3 this way, but we didn't eat these), and 5. For causing general problems in the chicken coup, having a bad attitude, or escaping regularly (the alpha chicken <i>will</i> die for this). <br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/ShrEshbWODI/AAAAAAAAATw/6_g2AzSFssU/s1600-h/CIMG2911.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/ShrEshbWODI/AAAAAAAAATw/6_g2AzSFssU/s320/CIMG2911.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339796577367504946" /></a>We have also started composting with worms. We take food garbage, minus meat and fat, plus napkins and paper towels, and mix it with shredded newspaper, and yard waste like straw leaves or grass clippings, and bury it. I take a hand full of worms, from the established area (I mail ordered them originally from the worm dude), and mix the worms in with the compost, add a thin layer of dirt on top to keep the flies away, and then I put an old window screen on top to keep the chickens out, and I have a sprinkler that keeps the area moist. The castings, dark, rich, fertilizer is then great natural organic fertilizer for our garden, lawn, trees and other plants. The worm population will double every 2 to 3 months in ideal conditions, the worms also become a protein treat for the chickens. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/ShrEsdv6pMI/AAAAAAAAATo/TiuHNVUYxs8/s1600-h/CIMG2914.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/ShrEsdv6pMI/AAAAAAAAATo/TiuHNVUYxs8/s320/CIMG2914.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339796576380036290" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "> </span>When we want to get rid of harmful bugs or do some light tilling around the garden plants we let the chickens in for natural pest control. It is an age old cycle that we are glad to be incorporating into our lives. Some times the animals get out and cause more harm than good, but we are learning to deal with this. </div></div></div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/ShrFW0ngojI/AAAAAAAAAT4/erVBt-2EMDI/s400/CIMG2915.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339797304073298482" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-2755913407185811522008-12-07T21:23:00.001-08:002008-12-07T21:23:05.189-08:00Attitude of Gratitude VideoThe "Kazarian's In Armenia 2008 - Attitude of Gratitude" video is now <br>available for viewing via YouTube. <a href="http://video.kazarian.net">video.kazarian.net</a> or you can go <br>direct at <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/kazarianfamily">http://www.youtube.com/user/kazarianfamily</a>, or the link to <br>the side of the page about the kids video.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-20516844878512947342008-11-29T18:12:00.001-08:002008-11-29T18:12:17.834-08:00SLIDESHOW TIME<div><blockquote type="cite"><div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; min-height: 14px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: -1; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">Join us for light snacks and a video presentation of our trip to Armenia, including our special guest Gohar Palyan direct from Armenia. She will share about her work with Armenian Habitat, and the Fuller Center. We will have a question and answer time following the presentation. We hope you can make it, to our house, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">Sunday, December 7, 3:30PM evite invitation:<font class="Apple-style-span" face="Helvetica"> <a href="http://www.evite.com/pages/invite/viewInvite.jsp?inviteId=CYIBLIIZNASMXOIBOWCN#">http://www.evite.com/pages/invite/viewInvite.jsp?inviteId=CYIBLIIZNASMXOIBOWCN#</a></font></span></span></div></div></blockquote></div><br>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-27641843184579837452008-10-22T11:44:00.001-07:002008-10-22T11:44:45.653-07:00Back in Our HouseWe have moved back into our home in Fresno, Kalem is looking for a <br>permanent job, while filling in with construction projects, and <br>Jonelle is continuing to homeschool the kids, and unpack boxes. We <br>missed our home, and are glad to be back. We continue to process the <br>experiences we had while in Armenia. Please continue to pray for us <br>as God puts it on your heart, some of the most difficult work <br>associated with this trip is being done right now, as we talk and pray <br>as a couple and seek Gods healing, provision, and direction. We will <br>announce a date for a dinner slideshow at Lilly's restaurant soon, for <br>now we are beginning to take invitations for dinner at your house to <br>share about the trip.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-7862697279786672472008-09-28T05:36:00.000-07:002008-09-28T04:30:41.292-07:00Back HomeWe are back! Some highlights from the return trip: We left Armenia <br>on schedule, and enjoyed movies on British Airways flight operated by <br>BMI. In London, we made it to the proper terminal and gate with <br>plenty of time and settled into our seats on the plane, when after <br>about an hour of sweating in "the back of the bus" they unloaded all <br>of the passengers, to continue working on a faulty part of the <br>electrical system for the lighting and air conditioning. They fixed <br>the part and then it broke again, this is when they handed out $10 <br>food vouchers to each passenger, so we ate and waited. Once on board <br>four hours later the kids fell asleep immediately, we ate dinner and <br>watched movies and slept, and 11 hours later we were in LA. Going <br>through customs one of Kalem's favorite parts is when the officer <br>says, "Welcome home." On the baggage belt things were going good <br>until the last bag could not be found. An employee said some bags <br>were left in London, but then the next morning we got a call from <br>another passenger that they mistakenly took our bag. Several hours <br>were wasted trying to connect directly with this family and ultimately <br>we just left, so now we are waiting for British Airlines to ship our <br>bag to us. We were quite surprised how neither customs nor the rental <br>car company, took very much interest in checking for illegal items, <br>and damages respectively. All that behind us we are extremely glad to <br>be home and are now fighting jet lag as we settle in. The kids are <br>actually kind of funny as they wake up in the middle of the night and <br>say that they are hungry.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-8092893834415213032008-09-25T07:49:00.000-07:002008-09-25T10:28:13.992-07:00Coming HomeWe have begun our return trip home already, with a short transition in <br>Yerevan at a relatives house, for a couple of days, and then we will <br>travel home via British Airways through London. We have many stories <br>to tell and will continue to update the blog with some of our past <br>experiences, as well as some thoughts as we transition back to <br>American culture. We plan to lay low for a couple of weeks, as we <br>process the experience. We are trying to put together a book <br>compiling our past blogs, with some new an never posted blogs, to give <br>a fuller picture of our experiences in Armenia. More details to come.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-68235452515114950412008-09-21T06:09:00.000-07:002008-09-21T05:43:56.573-07:00InternetIrony of all ironies is this, we have been living in this village for <br>four months now, without even the hope of an internet connection, and <br>two days before we are to leave our neighbor announced that they got <br>their internet to work! You know I tried everything that I could do <br>to get a connection for us, but some times it helps to know someone. <br>It took our neighbor's cousin who works at the phone company to <br>personally take their phone back, reprogram it and personally come set <br>it up. Today I was one of the first people to surf the net from this <br>village. Now this may not seem very impressive to you, but if you <br>think about the donkey "Eeawing" in the background, the burning dung, <br>the horse drawn cart, the dirt roads, and the mountains on every side <br>of this village, it is very impressive. As our neighbors put it "it's <br>a pity we didn't get the internet sooner," we do feel blessed to have <br>been here and to see God answer yet another one of our prayer <br>request. Although it is not always the way we would want or in our <br>timing, He is faithful.<br> On a side note just as I was coming into Gyumri to send this email, <br>and print the last batch of photos to leave in the village, I noticed <br>they had begun fixing the road entering Gyumri coming from <br>Lusaghbyur. This road is really a night mare, for about 1/2 a mile <br>and has been like that as long as I can remember. Add that to the <br>irony that as we are leaving the road that we use most is finally <br>getting fixed. Lusaghbyur is slowly becoming a more comfortable place <br>to live, especially for the four families that have remodeled homes <br>this year!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-1199114444000986382008-09-16T02:27:00.000-07:002008-09-17T07:23:11.586-07:00Mommy's 1st Day of School<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SNESz1gmdjI/AAAAAAAAAOo/OmRWBRELpYY/s1600-h/CIMG1879-791587.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SNESz1gmdjI/AAAAAAAAAOo/OmRWBRELpYY/s320/CIMG1879-791587.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246995722609784370" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SNES0HVLRhI/AAAAAAAAAOw/WNvaAqexUzQ/s1600-h/CIMG1882-792251.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SNES0HVLRhI/AAAAAAAAAOw/WNvaAqexUzQ/s320/CIMG1882-792251.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246995727393703442" /></a></p>See this smile? This is the smile of good old American <br>remedies...Imodium!!! One sick day was all I could handle...I really <br>wanted to get to school. Kalem, Peter and Frank joined Judi and I <br>walked together to our class sporting our new Barbie backpacks. And, <br>as usual, we attracted a crowd. All the kids from my summer school <br>mobbed us and asked if I was REALLY going to school. There was a <br>mixture of shock and admiration as they joined our parade to Dabrotz. <br>Soon the Teacher, Unger (literally Friend) Khachadouryan walked in and <br>Judi and I jumped up to get our picture taken with her. (One thing I <br>lamented when I began homeschooling was that my children would NOT get <br>a picture with their new teacher each year on the first day of <br>school...I have great peace now since every year when they take their <br>school picture with me, I can look back and see how different I look <br>each year!!!) Unger Khachadouryan was very nice to me when I met her <br>this summer and was very excited that I would be joining her class in <br>the Fall. Today, though, she seemed pretty cold and aloof. Perhaps I <br>was being too giddy, I have been known to be just a tad silly ; ) <br>sometimes. She took her picture with us and then assigned our seats. <br>Of course Judi and I were separated and I was moved to the back of the <br>class. Each of the tables had two seats welded to the frame and metal <br>partitions were set between the two individual seats (this would prove <br>to be VERY important with two 6 year olds sitting at the same table/ <br>desk.) Vaneegk got put in the desk in front of mine but in the <br>opposite seat. I will tell you more about Vaneegk and all the <br>students later but just suffice it to say that Vaneegk would be <br>classed ADHD in the States and be heavily medicated. He was told to <br>turn around and sit straight about 10 times that day. And I made a <br>bet, with myself, that he would be the first to get smacked! After we <br>were all settled Judi, who was caddy corner to me across the isle, <br>turned and said, "Mommy, look we are so close." Unger Khachadouryan <br>swooped in and said, "Lesee Judeet, eem tasoom meeine Hyeren chosoom <br>ek, yev YES KO MAMAN ice degh!" (Listen Judi, in my class we only <br>speak Armenian, and here, I AM YOUR MOM!) I could see this was going <br>to be a learning experience for me, much bigger than I originally <br>thought. And so went my first day of school...maybe staying in bed <br>one more day would have been good, even though I am 38 and by far the <br>TALLEST kid in the first grade...I was scared!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-84308516008273950792008-09-16T01:47:00.000-07:002008-09-17T08:01:09.851-07:00When Mommy is Sick!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SNEZdl4QTnI/AAAAAAAAAO4/hPRMyFq04Fg/s1600-h/CIMG1876.JPG"></a><br /><div>Now you might be wondering WHY ON EARTH would I, Jonelle, let that absolutely HORRID picture of my sick self be sent out for all of cyberspace to view...well, I guess I can only liken it to having a baby! I am an extremely modest person, BUT when in the throws of labor it seems that little matters in the area of modesty. Let me expl</div><div>ain what I mean. I was on my death bed as you recall and Kalem was working at the neighbors house. I was trying to do homeschool with Judi, Peter & Frankie, on our King-Size mattress (praise GOD for the container FINALLY arriving!!) whilst under the covers laying flat on my back. It was actually working...for an hour or so but then it got to be lunch time. I sent Judi into the kitchen with these instructions, "Jude, get the peanut butter, honey, and bread and make sandwiches for you and the boys." Seemed simple and straightforward enough...A few minutes later Judi came into our bedroom announcing, "Mommy, Tsoeegk is here and she wants to ask you something." Again giving seemingly simple instructions, I replied, "Oh, Jude can you please tell her Mommy is sick and see if you or Daddy can answer her question." APPARENTLY NOT! Within moments Tsoeegk was standing at the foot of my bed, BUT NOT ONLY TSOEEGK...NO it was Tsoeegk, Aysa, Shoosh</div><div>anigk, Nellie, Vart, and two or three smaller size children all standing around my bed, staring at me! Oh, the horror!! I don't even want to look at me when I am sick let alone all these village women! I wanted to die from stomach pain before but now I wanted to die of sheer and utter mortification. There they were hashing over the story of why I was sick and all chiming in on what THEY thought the REAL reason was and what remedies I should pursue forthwith. I was trying to explain to them that in America mostly we just want to be left alone when we aren't feeling well. They assured me THAT WAS NOT how they were. (So I had to put the picture in...I wish I had one of THEM looking at me...NOW THAT would have been priceless.) They wanted to"HELP" (The 70's Alan Alda & Margo Thomas' LP <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.329412) 1px -1px;">FREE TO BE YOU AND ME</span></span> popped into my mind "Some kind of help is the kind of he</div><div>lp that helpings all about, and some kind of help is the kind of help WE ALL CAN DO WITHOUT!) Just then Judi came in the room and I asked why on earth she let "these women" in my room (You know that is the BEST thing about people here NOT knowing English...I can say whatever I want and not have to sensor...but I digress), Judi just laughed which made the women laugh and I laughed but only out of embarrassment. "It's not the watermelon! said Aysa, "Gegham brought us the rest of your melon and told us you got sick eating it...we laughed the whole time we ate the rest!" Oh, please I thought, but I replied, "Zer stomachneren oojhegh en, eemnas tweel eh." (your stomaches are strong and mine is weak.) Next came the in home remedies (mind you EVERYONE is a DOCTOR HERE...or so they act) I had already tried the one method Kalem tired; the spoonful of fresh espresso ground coffee...I felt like I was suffocating...ever try to swallow a spoonful of powder? </div><div>Try it...IT'S ABSOLUTELY AWEFUL (that's funny, like when you smell spoiled milk that is just horrendous, but then you want others to smell it too...) I was about 10 minutes past that attempt when the peanut gallery arrived. The women fought among themselves as to whose concoction was the soundest, but since Aysa and her two daughters-in-law out numbered the rest they "won". They insisted that I needed to take LEEMON TUTSEE...now I could figure out the lemon part but it was the TUTSEE I was afraid of. A few more minutes which seemed like hours past and the whole crew marched off to get the mysterious wonder drug. I was left with the lingering smell of cow in my room, which I might add is NOT helpful for a sour stomach. Shooshanigk returned with a folded envelope of newsprint and presented Leemon Tutsee to me...it looked like large granulated sugar but it tasted like lemon flavored ACID. I downed a spoonful and gagged on some water...she said I should be back to normal "quickly" but if in an hour I wasn't better to take another spoonful. I don't </div><div>know if the coffee grounds and the acid didn't agree with each other or if the LEEMON was doing the WATUTSEE in my stomach...all I knew is that helpful visit from the women of Lusahgbyur made me want to die...in EVERY sense and there was NO WAY I was going to have one more spoonful of ANYTHING from those DOCTORS. And as I lay in my bed reeling from the day's events my sweet angels made their lunch..alas it was NOT PB & J, not it was GRATED CARROTS WITH SUGAR POURED ON TOP (on top of the carrots, the table, the floor. But my mommy says, "Some days are like this, even in ARMENIA." Jonelle ;)</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SNEafjRDehI/AAAAAAAAAPA/4OCOJ0uX4ps/s320/CIMG1876.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247004170208377362" /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-62873646618575317702008-09-12T12:35:00.000-07:002008-09-14T01:26:39.500-07:00Sevan CruzEvery year our family takes a few days off and enjoys what some call <br>the Armenian Riviera, or Santa Cruz. Up to our ears with village live <br>we decided to take a few days off and enjoy the real Armenian Riviera, <br>Lake Sevan. Now we have visited the popular an convenient West shore, <br>but we were told about the more secluded East shore. We packed up the <br>Niva and headed away from the village. Two hours later we reached the <br>far side of the lake and found the "resort" that we were told about. <br>We were shown to our "domik" (like a double wide trailer, with two <br>bedrooms, bathroom, living room and entry. All newly built within the <br>last three years. Our contact was the closest thing to an Armenian <br>Beach Bum that we have ever seen, laid back, tan, and always close to <br>the water. Motored raft rides, horse rides, all part of the $50 a <br>night domik fee. We enjoyed our rest and returned somewhat refreshed <br>and very burned.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-32468673124112429972008-09-12T11:43:00.000-07:002008-09-17T07:48:49.757-07:00DyingJust found out today that our neighbor here in Armenia, Satanik, a 82 <br>year old widow, had already prepared her grave. Her husband died <br>a couple years after they married, she has been living in a domik <br>(metal shipping container since the earthquake, 20 years ago. The <br>domik is extremely hot in the summer, leaks when it rains, and is <br>freezing cold in the winter. She has a relatively decent disposition <br>about life, but at this point it seems she is just waiting to die. <br>She will be buried next to her only brother who was killed in the <br>second world war. The basalt headstone has a picture of her brother <br>and already a picture of her. With no children or other close relatives to <br>look after her, she has taken the final preparations upon herself. It <br>is just a reality here, and I have not really experienced this before, <br>just thought I would share.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-17588649326372032212008-09-09T04:22:00.000-07:002008-09-09T03:20:42.432-07:00Twas The Night Before 1st Grade...<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZN-sz2F-I/AAAAAAAAAOg/CI-aU8EjMDY/s1600-h/CIMG1874-742440.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZN-sz2F-I/AAAAAAAAAOg/CI-aU8EjMDY/s320/CIMG1874-742440.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243964555695364066" /></a></p>The night before my first day at Bullard High School, I threw up and <br>was sick the whole next day. Chalk it up to 9th grade jitters or bad <br>Chinese food. The night before my first day of 10th grade THE SAME <br>THING HAPPENED! What are the likelihoods of that? So I missed the <br>1st day of school two times as a teenager possibly from food but most <br>likely from nerves. The night before I was to start my matriculation <br>at Kyoogh Tduhbrotz No. 1 I was FINE. I was so excited to go. <br>FINALLY I, JONELLE, had a REAL class all to my self, for me to learn <br>the Armenian language PROPERLY with a teacher, books, homework and <br>all. I told EVERYONE. I had my clothes all laid out, my pencils <br>sharpened and a brand new notebook crisp and ready...but like a three- <br>peat of my high school career, I awoke Monday, 1 September with the <br>sourest stomach I have ever had in Armenia. I have not had a problem <br>with my bowels in my homeland and so I have told, nay, boasted to <br>all. "Kalem just has a weak stomach." I would say. But that morning, <br>even if I tried to swallow those words they wouldn't have stayed in <br>me! I know I was excited but could I possibly be scared of THE FIRST <br>GRADE? Maybe so but I contest it was the WATERMELON!!!! Kalem can <br>confirm this as we have done personal and costly (to our innards) <br>experiments with said fruit. Locals say that if the melons are left <br>in the hot sun all day, day after day they turn to "POISON". Of <br>course I did not believe this at first and had quite a few delicious <br>sumerook since I have been in Hyeastan, which I took to mean that I <br>had a cast iron stomach or that I was truly a deghatzee (Local)! It <br>actually begs the question, "How would one know if a melon had sat in <br>the sun all day, day after day?" This melon in question was purchased <br>from a traveling market (these are guys in vans or better yet cars <br>with boxes of produce stacked to the gills. Sometimes the whole of <br>the car is filled, back windows and all to the headliner of the moving <br>Khanoot.) and our neighbor even asked, "Are these things poison?" Now <br>I know I am not the best business person, but what produce peddler <br>(especially an Armenian one....) is going to say, "Yes, actually all <br>of my melons are terrible and you would do yourself and your whole <br>family a great disservice by purchasing one of my black-seeded TIME <br>BOMBS!" Whatever the culprit, the nerves or the melons one thing is <br>for sure, I AM NOT EATING ANOTHER SUMEROOK UNTIL I GET BACK TO THE <br>USA!!! And Lord willing tomorrow I will see if I can stomach the 1st <br>grade! Weakly yours, Jonelle ; {Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-71592735256565996682008-09-07T00:17:00.000-07:002008-09-09T03:17:19.635-07:00First Day of School<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNL3b8_kI/AAAAAAAAANA/F9LJWjSKCpc/s1600-h/CIMG1855-739637.JPG"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNL3b8_kI/AAAAAAAAANA/F9LJWjSKCpc/s320/CIMG1855-739637.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243963682374614594" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNMGxW8iI/AAAAAAAAANI/gkS5OPvOBQk/s1600-h/CIMG1861-740208.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNMGxW8iI/AAAAAAAAANI/gkS5OPvOBQk/s320/CIMG1861-740208.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243963686490927650" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNMHsI0nI/AAAAAAAAANQ/fc7NTy4yEyU/s1600-h/CIMG1864-740659.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNMHsI0nI/AAAAAAAAANQ/fc7NTy4yEyU/s320/CIMG1864-740659.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243963686737465970" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNMS8XWTI/AAAAAAAAANY/qKb47Z2ehK0/s1600-h/CIMG1865-741601.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNMS8XWTI/AAAAAAAAANY/qKb47Z2ehK0/s320/CIMG1865-741601.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243963689758316850" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNMtKCr_I/AAAAAAAAANg/1ICEAmZ7gZY/s1600-h/CIMG1867-742129.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNMtKCr_I/AAAAAAAAANg/1ICEAmZ7gZY/s320/CIMG1867-742129.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243963696795004914" /></a></p><p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNMn3RZbI/AAAAAAAAANo/PSXrWz9jTFo/s1600-h/CIMG1873-742559.JPG"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SMZNMn3RZbI/AAAAAAAAANo/PSXrWz9jTFo/s320/CIMG1873-742559.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243963695374099890" /></a></p>September 1st is the first day of school for the whole country of <br>Armenia. Everyone was scurrying about on Sunday, 31 August to make <br>sure they had their fresh notebooks, sharpened pencils, rulers, and of <br>course new clothes. In the Village school, the children in grades 1-4 <br>have clothing requirements. The girls must wear black skirts, white <br>shirts and white socks (shoes are left to preference). The boys are <br>clad in brand-new 2 and 3 piece suits with newly quafted hair-dos. <br>The rest of the Tduhbrotz (school) wears what they like, but what they <br>like is THEIR BEST CLOTHES. I must say I DO NOT MISS the nasty, <br>scankie, and sloppy dress of American students, and the population in <br>general. It is refreshing to see kids who want to look their best. <br>That is not all...the students are taught to stand when an elder walks <br>into the room and greet them with a hearty "Barev Stez". Disrespect <br>and foolishness are NOT allowed by the teachers and the parents know <br>(and it seems, LOVE that the teacher is the one disciplining their <br>children!). While I was doing my School/VBS/Babysitting/English <br>Teaching/Refereeing this Summer, I was told by parents that if their <br>children misbehaved that it was MY JOB to smack them! Of course I <br>explained to them that is WAS NOT my job but THEIR JOB the other 22 <br>hours they were NOT with me. Alas, this is the way they roll. Each <br>of the 1st graders received not one but two brand new backpacks; girls <br>got BARBIE, of course and the boys either a dragon motif or <br>SPIDERMAN. The packs were stocked with colored pencils, a ruler, <br>three pens, an eraser, one pencil sharpener, 9 small "blue books" in <br>the US but here they are light green. Four of them are for <br>Mateematicas with a grid pattern for paper and the other 5 are lined <br>for letters and writing. There was also one 8 1/2 x 11 pack of white <br>drawing paper, and one "packet" of colored paper (don't go picturing <br>the thick, pulpy American grade...No this is paper is a blend of say a <br>tissue paper and the transfer paper tailors use to mark white lines on <br>fabric. Oh and the color is only on ONE side of the paper, the other <br>side is white.) The first day started with all sorts of Pomp and <br>Circumstance Village style with a weak rendition of Mer Hyedeneek, <br>bouquets of flowers for each student (except Jude of course because we <br>are the newbies and NOBODY tells us what we need to do until AFTER the <br>fact : )!!!, and a general welcome to all the new and returning <br>ahshagertner (students). Of course I am writing this only second hand <br>because this 1st day of school did NOT turn out to be MY first day <br>along with Judi...No my first day of school was spent in an ENTIRELY <br>DIFFERENT way! More to come, more than you know....Jonelle; )Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-13610629799184585652008-09-03T22:19:00.000-07:002008-09-04T04:15:21.709-07:00The accidentA couple of weeks ago a few minutes after I had learned about the <br>benzine crisis I was driving around in Gyumri with the kids after <br>church (Jonelle was home with a bad headache), I had a long list of <br>things to pick up from town and was trying to make sense of the <br>situation, when I saw the calling card I was looking for in the window <br>of a street side stand. I had just entered a wide round about and was <br>maybe in the middle when I darted over the right to stop. The car <br>behind me honked and then they pulled over in front of me. I jumped <br>out to get the calling card while the angry driver was coming towards <br>me. I had seen plenty of accidents in Armenia and knew that a large <br>argument usually follows, but I didn't know it happened for near <br>misses. As I got my card the man tore into me, "why aren't you <br>looking where you are going, we almost had a bad accident." My reply <br>was you are right, it was my fault, I am sorry. This is a very <br>uncommon response here and not knowing how to handle it he tore into <br>me again. I explained the situation, apologized again and admitted <br>that it was my error. With sevral more warnings the man left me and <br>we were back about our business. The funny thing about this story is <br>that two weeks later I had stopped into a store in Vananadzor (East of <br>our village, 60 miles from Gyumri) for an ice cream bar and it just so <br>happened that the store owner was the same man who I nearly ran into. <br>We rehashed the same conversation, he again gave me more warnings, but <br>a least this time he asked what I was doing in Armenia and we had a <br>little nicer conversation. Armenia is a small country, but in the <br>seven months we have been here I have only recognized four people <br>while I have been out and about, this was a very strange meeting.<br> Fast forward to yesterday, I was in Yerevan to take care of a few <br>things and was headed to say hi to my relatives before I headed back <br>to the village. I was in a standard bumper to bumper traffic jamb in <br>the city when all of the cars in front of me slammed on their brakes. <br>I did to and nearly missed the car in front of me by inches, and as I <br>listened for the car behind me to stop also, I heard very little <br>breaks and and then a crash! Jolted nearly into the car in front of <br>me, I held my spot and then pulled over to the side to hash out the <br>situation. Again angry driver yelling at me, we argued about the <br>situation, and he claimed my break lights didn't work, and that we <br>should go right then to a body shop and get the car fixed. Although <br>they in fact did work but were weak from a low battery and bad <br>alternator. I know that the law is the same in Armenia, as in the US, <br>the person who hits from behind is as fault, usually for not keeping <br>enough distance. I called my cousin and he came over to help, but the <br>man continued to insist that I pay for the damages, then he called the <br>police over to help settle the situation. This took about half an <br>hour to get a police officer to the scene (where are they when you <br>need them?), and we went through the whole thing one more time. The <br>man continued to insist he was right so the road police called an <br>expert to measure skid marks and determine who was at fault.<br> While we were waiting my cousin left to take care of his business, <br>and the other guys off duty police officer friend also came to the <br>scene. Left alone in an unbalanced situation, but pretty sure I was <br>not at fault I waited to see what the expert would say. After a few <br>words with the man that I was not privileged to hear, I heard <br>something about him having to pay at least 20,000 drams ($65) to even <br>have the guy measure the scene. Finally, understanding the situation, <br>the man backed off, the expert officer asked if I had any problems, I <br>said "no" even though my cousin wanted me to have them get a new rear <br>bumper for the Niva (that showed little to no signs of an accident). <br>So after over an hour of waiting and arguing, I was finally able to <br>leave in peace, glad that the law prevailed despite what connections <br>one might have. In conjunction with many other experiences here this <br>is not a country where one admits their fault very easily.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-35601910006890463752008-09-03T05:14:00.000-07:002008-09-03T04:09:17.226-07:00GaWith all of the comments and emails about the last blog (Ch Ga II), I <br>thought I would update the situation with what we do have (Ga). We <br>now have gasoline, and at decent prices. We have been able to leave <br>the village for church and rest. We worked very diligently at trying <br>to resolve the situation with our neighbors, and an understandable <br>stalemate resulted. Although it was not the best outcome all sides <br>were heard and rules were created for their kids not to be <br>unsupervised in our yard.<br> The power still goes off frequently and actually last week, the <br>"PG&E" guy changed the wires on our pole, that had melted and then <br>they melted again. Some uninsulated wires had touched and were <br>causing a short, he fixed the short and changed them again. For half <br>a day of work and 100 feet of thick wire I traded a 90 pounds bag of <br>cement about $10.<br> So now we have power most of time, we sort of have friends, and are <br>continuing to make new ones. We have benzine and our health most of <br>the time. But most of all we have hope, that God will provide for us, <br>though out all of these situations. As we also have many <br>opportunities to share our faith with many of the people who are <br>interested in us. Finally, we have all of you that are praying for us <br>and supporting us, thank you.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-46109853824412660272008-08-29T23:55:00.000-07:002008-08-29T22:51:39.756-07:00Ch Ga part IIWhen we were in Yerevan I wrote what I thought was a pretty extensive <br>list of things that were not available. Things like the gas being <br>turned off, the water being rationed a few hours each day, internet <br>not working sometimes, and the electricity being shut off for unknown <br>periods of time. After three months in the village my understanding <br>of "ch ga" (don't have) has greatly increased. Not only are the above <br>mentioned things periodically turned off, but there is a whole host of <br>other things that now not available.<br> This particular blog was inspired by the current absence of gasoline, <br>in the whole country! This is something particularly difficult to <br>fathom after living in America our whole lives. Sunday after church <br>in Gyumri I pulled into a gas station to fill up one gallon (4 liters) <br>to make it back to the village, and was surprised that they didn't <br>have any. Why you ask only one gallon? Our car was broken into after <br>only one month in the village and with the front seat headrests, the <br>radio and speakers, one windshield wiper blade, and $30 worth of fuel <br>was stolen. This lead me to buy a locking gas cap, but then when the <br>thievery continued three more times by breaking the lock on the gas <br>cap, I resolved to keep the car as empty as possible to prevent future <br>loss. I would keep about an old juice bottle full of benzine <br>(gasoline), in case the empty gas tank didn't get us to our next <br>destination. So I had used up the bottled benzine to get to church <br>thinking for sure I could just fill up both the car and the bottle and <br>return home. When the second gas station in Gyumri was also out of <br>benzine, I began to worry. At the third gas station, I just had to <br>ask what happened and where I could get gas.<br> The attendant explained that there was no gas in the whole town, <br>(Armenia's second largest town), this blew my mind, as I have never <br>experienced this before in my life. Next we decided to pray, as for <br>sure we didn't have enough fuel to even get home. In faith we decided <br>to try and see in what way God would provide. So just before leaving <br>the city limits, I spotted a sign in Russian that said "Benzine" not <br>that I read Russian, but after 6 months I've learned to recognize it. <br>There was a stack of gas canisters (not American red, but Russian <br>green), and God answered our prayer with us buying the last gallon of <br>gas that the old man had, for $6! I was more than happy to pay the <br>inflated rate just to get home. Asking again what happened to all the <br>gas, he explained that the rail line coming to Armenia from Russia <br>through Georgia, was blown up. Workers fixed the line in a few days <br>and then it was blown up once again.<br> Now we are "stuck" in the village, with just enough benzine to make <br>it back to the city to refill once the trains make it in. Not only is <br>Gyumri out of gas, so is Yerevan the capital city of this small <br>country, and every other city. The only cars on the road are the ones <br>that are fueled by natural gas. This has brought about a whole host <br>of other problems.<br> Since it is nearing the end of the month, the cash I withdrew for <br>this month is nearing it's end, and it's not like we can just hit the <br>"village ATM" to get some more cash, or use our Visa card at the <br>village store to buy food. So add to the list "pogh ch ga" (don't <br>have money). Jonelle can't go to Gyumri to teach her bible study <br>class, or shop for the items that just are not available in the <br>village. We don't have a T.V. or satellite dish like many other <br>people, no news paper either, so we don't have any idea what is going <br>on in the world.<br> Just recently our closest friends in the village turned their back on <br>us, after their mother slapped two children that she thought hurt her <br>grandchildren in our daily summer school at our house. Refusing to <br>apologize to us or the children who she slapped, we have had to ban <br>her grandchildren from our house. Needless to say this has negatively <br>affected our fellowship with our believing neighbors. So add to the <br>list "ungerner ch ga" (don't have friends). There are other people in <br>the village we know but by far we have invested the most time with <br>this family. This has also lead to unstable mental health as we <br>ponder these issues, and a general lack of freedom as we are stuck <br>here with neighbors that apparently don't want anything to do with us.<br> As you may also know, we were never able to get internet in the <br>village so by the time you read this the benzine situation should be <br>resolved, but remember it is Armenia so you never know.<br> Please pray for us that we finish our last month here in Armenia <br>well, that we continue to be living examples of Christ's love, as he <br>continues to streach us and teach us more about complete dependence on <br>him.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-7347630014149738642008-08-22T12:33:00.000-07:002008-08-26T12:38:58.070-07:00Gegham Hopar"Barev Gegham Hopar!" is the cheerful greeting I receive from dozens <br>of children everyday. It brings the biggest smile to my face every <br>time I hear those words, for several reasons. First the children are <br>respectful and greet their elders properly. Second, they have learned <br>and use the authentic Armenian version of my name Gegham. Third they <br>call me "Hopar" which is short for "Horut Aghper," which is "fathers <br>brother," literally "uncle." Fourth since Mr. & Mrs. are generally <br>not used and everyone becomes uncle and aunt I have been loved and <br>accepted with the greeting "Hello uncle Kalem."<br> Finally, my smile doubles with joy as my own children have even begun <br>to refer to me as Gegham Hopar. Not only is it funny, but I just love <br>the sound of it so much, and coming from my own children it is that <br>much sweeter, (as improper as it is to call your father Uncle and use <br>his first name). I love this name so much I changed "Simon Says" to <br>"Gegham Hopar Aseys," as I lead the 20 or so kids that come to our <br>house daily for "school." For those two hours, and when ever they are <br>around we are able to love them as our own family, as they call to us, <br>"Barev Gegham Hopar, Barev Joawna Tota."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-80043153360844422008-08-20T06:34:00.000-07:002008-08-20T05:33:05.981-07:00Hyestan Hotties<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SKwPAgWSnCI/AAAAAAAAAM0/H_9xwTuiwbE/s1600-h/hotties-786008.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SKwPAgWSnCI/AAAAAAAAAM0/H_9xwTuiwbE/s320/hotties-786008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236576968082889762" /></a></p>This is my 1st blog since entering the Kuyoogh. Of course we don't <br>have ready access to internet and today is the first day I was given <br>1) The Car, 2) Time, 3) Knowledge about how do hook up at the internet <br>cafe 30 minutes away. I have missed you all TERRIBLY!!! So, Lena <br>Eritzian, Nar Yergat and Jonelle are sitting on a lovely bench at the <br>Hocktonakee Igee (that's Victory Park) in Yerevan to enjoy a few hours <br>of Fresno fellowship and play for our kiddos. Of course, by the photo <br>you can tell that Nar and Lena are....well...they are just HOT!!! I <br>would aspire to be them someday in the reverse (Fresno to Armenia <br>transplant) but THEY are the original and reigning HYESTAN HOTTIES!!! <br>As we sat in the small space of shade to shelter us from the <br>smoldering Yerevan heat we noticed three Vosdeegans (police officers) <br>coming our way. As is typical Hyegagan Sev (Armenian Style) the three <br>were staring unashamedly in our direction. But it was oh, so much <br>more than they typical stare-down of the Armenian Male...they circled <br>back around THREE times and couldn't stop drooling...I know because I <br>was staring them down and they WERE NOT LOOKING AT ME!!!! This is the <br>problem...if you are beautiful and without a male in toe you will be <br>stared at, BUT NEVER in my entire 7 months here have I seen the <br>determination of the vosdeegans that day. I was please to be in such <br>company but even more to share those few hours with such wonderful <br>women as Lena and Nar. They brought a piece of Fresno to me, they let <br>me speak English and they are indeed beautiful...INSIDE and OUT!! <br>Miss you all Jonelle ; )Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-42174748875924941662008-08-20T05:08:00.000-07:002008-08-20T04:05:55.052-07:00Where did the pounds go?Moving to Armenia has taken its toll on us physically, first of all <br>traveling here with our whole family suffering a winter flu, then <br>Winter snow, rain and cold that seemed to last through Spring, <br>coupled with the kids bring back colds from kindergarden, seemed to <br>keep us generally immobilized, with at least one of us sick. This is <br>when we tried such remedies as Vodka and Garlic, rubbing snorting, <br>eating and drinking, we tried Russian versions of cold medicines, on <br>of which sent me (Kalem) into an Anti-falactic reaction, which <br>required more medicine to fix.<br> From previous trips to Armenia, I was warned not to drink the water <br>due to bacteria, so this time I bought four test kits and checked all <br>of the main water locations we would generally be drinking from. The <br>test was negative for bacteria, but only showed very hard water not <br>surprising for non galvanized pipe. So we drank the water with ease; <br>but still something else caused stomach problems, mostly for me, but <br>we were pretty certain it was not the water. A note in Armenia we <br>also found ourselves walking quite a bit which also added to the loss <br>of extra weight.<br> After a while I tried eliminating coffee which had cause different <br>problems in the past for me, but again to no major consistency. About <br>this time we moved to the village, which brought a whole new set of <br>problems. Our newly remodeled house was extremely humid from all of <br>the water based wall treatments, earthen plaster, drywall plaster, <br>paint etc. There was and still is stinging nettle everywhere around <br>the house and the village for that matter, the kids and I would <br>frequently run inside for the anti-itch cream. We all fell ill again <br>that first couple of weeks, and our neighbors attributed it to <br>"changing air."<br> One night I awoke in agonizing pain and found myself between the bed <br>and the bathroom the rest of the night, not knowing in which direction <br>to approach the toilet. That actually lasted into the next day, and <br>the cause was left unknown. Once that bought was over I noticed that <br>I had run out of holes in my belt. I had already moved in two, about <br>two inches, and my pants were still loose. Although I know I didn't <br>loose it all in one night I was curious to see how much weight I had <br>lost after being in Armenia for five months. Ten pounds was lost in <br>all, and so I started to try and replace the weight.<br> I had often skipped lunch for work, but now I would try to eat at <br>least one lunch if not two. I switched back to beer for toasts, <br>instead of Vodka, whenever possible, and tried to limit my stress. <br>Just when I was gaining weight and had eaten one of the most <br>satisfying meals of my time in Armenia, (lamb, pork, and chicken!), <br>and was completely full, I continued the feasting with cold <br>watermelon. To my dismay found myself in the bathroom again the whole <br>next day.<br> My most recent theory is the warning we were given about not eating <br>watermelon that has been out in the sun. Almost everyone buys <br>watermelon from street markets, almost all of the watermelon is left <br>in the sun, and so I am beginning my fast from watermelon. My Imodium <br>supply is running very low, but I do think they sell a Russian version <br>here. I also tried the village remedy of eating a spoon full of <br>unused coffee grounds. Which seemed to work but has kept me up late <br>into the night writing this blog.<br> As for those who think this to be "too much information" this is very <br>much apart of most peoples experience with Armenia and is important to <br>be noted. It is hard not to think and long for the processed fried <br>food of America at a time like this.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-49911754747177962312008-08-18T18:24:00.000-07:002008-08-20T04:03:31.783-07:00Animals living with usAlthough we live in a "remodeled" house, complete with European <br>windows, and door, there are quite a few uninvited guest in our home, <br>and this time I don't mean our neighbors. I am not sure where they <br>are coming from but we have an ample supply of flies everyday, <br>literally I spend about 20 minutes every morning with the fly <br>swatter. Then there are the spiders which I generally leave alone, as <br>long as they stay out of the way, to help control the ever increasing <br>fly population of course. With all of the fresh fruit this time of <br>year there are also quite a few gnats, and besides getting rid of the <br>fruit we don't have a way to control them. The moths are pretty easy <br>to kill with the fly swatter, but they still seem to be gaining in <br>numbers. There are ants, usually in the bathroom, Raid (produced in <br>Russia) takes care of that problem, for a couple of days at a time. <br>The real interesting thing is the black beetles that we find in the <br>shower, not so easy to squash but not to fast either. With all of <br>these insects if the kids ever leave the door open the neighbors <br>chickens find their way inside also, but at least that is one animal <br>that we can eat!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-10005951476644618982008-08-16T02:17:00.001-07:002008-08-16T01:13:03.101-07:00Hot Chili Pepper by Judi<!--StartFragment--> <div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 21px; ">Once upon a time when we were living in Armenia we were eating dinner and as usual my brother Frank was sucking his fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mommy had warned him that if he sucks his fingers he would get to meet Mr. Hot Chili Pepper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Frankie still sucked his fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So then Mommy grabbed one hot chili pepper and Mommy broke it up into two sister and brothers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So then Frank was just funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He put them on his fingers and started to mess around like they were puppets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And then he took a bite of the end of the top of the pepper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then he said, "Ah!" but then he started to mess around like they were puppets again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And then we all took them off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then we all told him to suck his fingers and he listened to us and sucked his fingers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>BUT THEN he started to cry and Mommy gave him some ice cream and then we all finished our food and then we ate our ice cream and Frank just had a fit with Mommy that he wanted more ice cream.</span></div> <div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:Arial"> <o:p></o:p></span></div> <div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:Arial">THE END <o:p></o:p></span></div> <div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:16.0pt;font-family:Arial"> <o:p></o:p></span></div> <div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:28.0pt;font-family:"Handwriting - Dakota""> <o:p></o:p></span></div> <!--EndFragment--> Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-58854916771174624142008-08-16T02:17:00.000-07:002008-08-16T01:13:01.571-07:00Five Minutes PeaceWe were warned before we came to live in the village that people would <br>expect to be able to walk into our house at anytime. In my mind this <br>translated as one or two unexpected visitors a day, maybe three. We <br>have since learned to expect that amount per hour! Us being from <br>America and all, is very interesting to many people here in the <br>village. People would want to talk, introduce themselves, invite us <br>over for coffee, see if we needed anything, bring us some <br>"housewarming" gift, etc. Then as work on peoples houses picked up <br>they would come over to borrow tools, or need materials. Then Jonelle <br>started a daily class with the neighborhood kids that were hanging <br>around anyway, and they all arrive around 11 AM for class. Then as <br>word got out we had a scanner/printer we offered to copy a passport or <br>two, and that has turned into about three or four a day sometimes. <br>There are many more "then's" but I think you get the idea, during <br>meals, rest times, waking up, going to sleep, showering, etc. the <br>doorbell is ringing, people are knocking, and yelling for us. It can <br>be very overwhelming at times, and sometimes all I want to do is hide, <br>as would Jonelle. We have tried very hard lately to say no, <br>especially at night and on Sundays, as we retreat if we can to the <br>safety of the house. Slowly people are learning as we are setting <br>boundaries, but it still leaves the rest of the day to be pretty <br>hectic. I was commenting to Jonelle the other day that our calender, <br>which is usually full of events in America, is literally empty, but <br>yet we are run ragged everyday, without 5 minutes peace.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-82197446907684769162008-08-07T04:44:00.000-07:002008-08-08T01:13:15.084-07:00A Good Nights Rest <p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SJwAG4_OBQI/AAAAAAAAAMs/zKzdF-XQTjY/s1600-h/CIMG1466-795086.JPG"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SJwAG4_OBQI/AAAAAAAAAMs/zKzdF-XQTjY/s320/CIMG1466-795086.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232056985474434306" /></a></p>The container shipment of tools and household supplies just recently <br>arrived for our last two months in the village. Included in this <br>shipment was our old cal king mattress, and another very new donated <br>full size mattress. We looked at them in awe like they were from <br>another planet not really believing that they had made it here, as if <br>we had forgotten what a mattress was. I say this because in the <br>village the standard bed consists of laminated wood or tubular metal <br>bed ends, a bed frame that really looks like some kind of medieval <br>torture device as it is a woven coil mess that is tensioned by two big <br>bolts on one end, and really one can never get it tight enough and the <br>result is a very saggy hammock. Then on top of the "spring" a <br>"mattress pad," which is usually old rags sewn together or some other <br>ugly mess, it is used to keep the rust from the "springs" from the <br>"mattress." The quotes are for emphasis since this is all such a far <br>cry from what you all would consider appropriate names for these <br>items. A picture of this "mattress" is included with this blog, it is <br>really a giant person sized pillow case stuffed full of, yes lambs <br>wool. This is not processed wool one might find in the US, it is <br>sheered washed a little and stuffed in the bag. We have seen our <br>neighbors spending days washing and putting the "mattress" back <br>together (after their young children pee on them), and now it is our <br>turn. Since we have real mattresses now for ourselves and the boys, <br>who are sharing the full by sleeping in it sideways, we are washing <br>Franks mattress, before we return it since he also did a bit of pee <br>pee in his. We are on our third load now as we speak and you can see <br>how much is left, I don't even think we have washed half of it yet. <br>The worst part is that you can not see how much dirt, sand, and dust <br>is actually in this thing. I finally understand very clearly why my <br>asthma has been so bad ever night since we have been living and <br>breathing the clean village air. I have actually been sleeping on and <br>under a sort of sand bag, like a dirty vacuum cleaner bag, since the <br>top blanket is more of the same just a little thiner as it is sewn <br>flat. Judi has been gracious enough to sleep in the remaining bed <br>that actually does have some what of a decent modern mattress, and we <br>all have "fresh" donated used sheets and blankets from America. <br>Personally my body rejected the firm mattress and I tossed and turned <br>all night, but the second night, oh the second night. It was <br>absolutely wonderful, no inhaler before bed and in the middle of the <br>night, no puff of dust every time I moved and the bed was actually <br>flat and smooth all night. Having a good nights rest has changed all <br>of our attitudes and outlooks. Although we are generally very tired <br>and sore everyday from life here, it is very nice to actually be able <br>to have a good nights rest a top a real mattress.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-43342179993632886352008-07-31T00:58:00.000-07:002008-07-31T00:09:24.110-07:00PG&E in the village<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SJFlJX_ilvI/AAAAAAAAAMk/pwNyw5gTgMs/s1600-h/gas+welding-764133.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qlWPJ-bkVcY/SJFlJX_ilvI/AAAAAAAAAMk/pwNyw5gTgMs/s320/gas+welding-764133.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229071854087608050" /></a></p>Today was Frank's 3rd birthday, and we didn't have power for about 8 <br>hours. Jonelle was left with one cake ready, one in the oven uncooked <br>and one not yet prepared. We served small pieces to about 30 <br>neighbors, adults and kids and it worked out okay. As night <br>approached my very American wife came to me and said, "what will we do <br>about our food in the refrigerator, we still don't have power." I <br>began to ask around and I heard from one neighbor that our transformer <br>(1/3 of the village) burned up, and that we wouldn't have power for <br>days.<br> So that neighbor and I worked out a plan to run power from his house <br>where they did have power, but before we executed, we thought maybe we <br>should ask the town electrician or the equivalent of the electrical <br>side of PG&E. The younger brother came to our aid and said that I was <br>the first to complain after 8 hours (that is almost 100 families who <br>didn't say anything!) So we went up to check the transformer and <br>after smelling something burnt, flipping a few switches and nothing <br>happening we gave up and headed back down. We were met by the older <br>brother who (usually collects our power money when ever he needs <br>money, there is no real schedule), and he was carrying a pair of <br>pliers and some thin wire in his back pocket. He suggested we grab a <br>pair of rubber gloves and a flashlight, so we did and up again we went.<br> On the 10,000 volt side, of the transformer, (the dangerous side, <br>that they are not supposed to work on) we found two of the two three <br>phases were burt out, and by burned out I mean a wire not much thicker <br>than a strand of hair that stretched about 2 feet was missing. I <br>found it very hard to believe that the power for a third of the <br>village ran through such a thin wire, which acted as fuse. Looking <br>closely I saw that this was not the first time this had happened as <br>there were about twenty old wires still tangled about, as the older <br>brother was yelling at the younger brother who was cleaning it up, to <br>leave the mess and hurry up. A couple of switches were thrown and the <br>lights brightened in the houses around us. I left the gloves as a <br>thank you, and said that next time if we don't have power for five <br>minutes I'm coming to your house to tell you.<br> To continue my description of the other half of PG&E, we recently had <br>gas run to the house, by some "independent contractors" from the <br>village. I use the term loosely because we are still not sure really <br>how much they over charged us. Although according to the official <br>paper work they showed us, we along with our neighbors bargained the <br>price down about 20% over coffee on our balcony, yet other neighbors <br>said we paid too much, and others said they are waiting until it is <br>free (which may never be). One mayor of a neighboring village, <br>refused to let anyone of his villagers pay to have gas run, insisting <br>to the authorities that it should be run with out payment, they still <br>don't have gas. What ever the case, these guys hooked us up, we still <br>haven't done any paperwork and we have gas, which Jonelle is enjoying <br>very much, by the way as her fingernails have returned to their normal <br>soot free color.<br> The exciting part of the gas experience was hooking up to the main <br>low pressure line, which runs along the street parallel to the high <br>pressure line. The welder was using an oxygen/astatine type torch <br>although the astatine I think was some other gas he produce from <br>dropping a manufactured "rock," that they call carbide, into a <br>pressure tank filled with water. Once he had all the welding done he <br>came back to the main low pressure line, welded a short piece of pipe <br>to the line that would fit into the larger line we ran to the house. <br>Then with a metal punch and hammer he proceeded to create a hole <br>inside of that fitting, and gas began to spew forth. Once the hole <br>was large enough he fitted the larger pipe over, gas still hissing <br>out, and lit his torch. Needless to say a ball of fire flamed in the <br>very area he had to weld, and for about 10 minutes he welded in the <br>flames. Just as he was finishing and people were congratulating us on <br>having gas and wishing us well, one of the oldest men in the village <br>silently walked by with a giant wrench in his hand, and everyone was <br>yelling around him that the water was going to be cut off.<br> So poetic justice in Armenia, just as we got gas, our water was cut <br>off, only to be rationed for a few hours each day, this was to go on <br>for the next two months while the water was diverted for watering <br>potatoes. Thinking I could beat the system, a few days later I <br>installed a water storage tank in the basement to accumulate water, <br>and a pump to create the pressure to lift the water and fire the gas <br>powered hot water heater. Then as you read above the power went out <br>and we didn't have any water either! So this is our life here in <br>Armenia in the village. But, just when we tried to complain about the <br>conditions, we were told that they lived without power, gas and <br>minimal water for over five years after independence in 1991, and that <br>they are all use to things not being. So we are grateful for what we <br>do have, and trying to make the best of PG&E in the village.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4411077902520137369.post-2167035577208751502008-07-22T13:29:00.000-07:002008-07-22T23:00:48.587-07:00Harvest timeThings are happening in the village, its grass harvesting time. <br>Everyone is talking about it making plans, working out schedules, <br>watching the weather, and harvesting their weeds. There are pretty <br>much three things here, animals (cows in particular), potatoes <br>(harvested in September), and grass (straw, weeds, flowers, what ever <br>you want to call it). Most people that have animals have grass, and <br>the ratio is about a hectare (2 acres or 2 football fields) for 5 <br>cows. This year the grass is tall about 2 feet almost three, there <br>are combines that cut the straw and there are bailing machines, but <br>there is an exceptional amount of harvesting that is done the old <br>fashion way with a sickle, rake and pitch fork.<br> In the morning men go out walking a couple of kilometers (little over <br>a mile) to their fields with long sickles slung over their shoulders, <br>a small cellophane bag of food, and a small bench in their hand. At <br>first I thought the bench was to sit on for lunch or a rest, and I <br>have seen this, but a closer look and an explanation revealed that <br>there is actually a small anvil attached to the bench. The cutting <br>edge of the sickle is hammered out to remove dents from rocks and to <br>be made thiner for easy sharpening with the stone they carry in their <br>pockets. If you are going to swing a sickle around all day it better <br>be sharp to be most effective. Then there is the raking with over <br>sized wooden tooth rakes (usually women help out with this) and then <br>their is the pitch forking on to trucks or carts pulled by tractors, <br>horses, donkeys, or even people. All day long trucks bring bails <br>back to the village, to be stored with this loose straw for the <br>animals to eat for the winter.<br> There is so much work gathering straw that there are hardly any <br>interruptions to our work, and I have taken the time to finish up some <br>of the lingering projects on the house we are living in. Wether there <br>or one of the other houses, the work days are long and like the guys <br>cutting straw all day I look forward to a good nights rest at the end <br>of a long day.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1