See For Yourself!

Another trip to the Village

The drive to the village was especially pretty this week, as the
temperatures dropped quite substantially, and a series of rain and
wind storms cleaned the smog out of the whole country. Yerevan is
built in a valley surrounded by hills to the North and East. Behind
those hills you can see that there is an even larger valley created by
Mt. Aragats to the North, Mt. Ara to the East, and Mt. Ararat
showcased to the Southeast. The mountains are all snow caped and
during the drive up and around the base of Aragats, I drove through
snow flurries in the town of Aparan (the halfway point).
Entering the town of Aparan a police tried in vain to pull me over
for speeding, I was probably going 65 kilometers per hour and I think
there might have been a sign saying it was 50 km/h. The siren and
flashing headlights were just not convincing enough for me and he only
moved his car about 50 meters, before giving up the "chase." I was on
the look out for the police on the other end of town but it wasn't
until after the next village did they stop me, this time they were out
of the car and flagging me down, again there was a special 50 km/h
sign, and they apparently clocked me at 84 km/h. I stayed in the car
with my seatbelt on and waited, a suggestion from a friend, who said
getting out of the car means you want to negotiate.
So, let me explain the driving rules I just learned, the open road
speed is 90 km/h, and town or village speed is 60 km/h, unless
otherwise posted. I tried to explain I thought it was an unfair speed
trap, coming around an uphill turn out of a village into a specially
marked danger zone, but that didn't work. They said the fine was
10,000 drams ($30), but would reduce it to 5,000 drams, this meant
from a ticket to a bribe. There are really three options, ticket,
bribe, and warning, since our goal is not to pay bribes, so I
continued to slowly deliberate with the police officers. Seeing I was
getting no sympathy with my standard pleas of just learning the rules,
and being here to help build homes for poor people, I tried my newest
tactic. I have a copy of all of the driving laws in Armenian, so I
brought it out and asked the police officers if they could show me
exactly which rule I broke and what the fine was. After about 30
seconds of flipping through the fine print, one officer shouted under
his breath, just give us money! To which I patiently waited for them
to show me the rule and 10 more seconds later he was handing all of my
documents back to me and saying don't drive fast anymore. I heeded
there warning and enjoyed the scenery, and drove 60 through remaining
villages and was passed by cars, trucks, and even a car with three
sheep in the back seat.
Lusaghbyur and two other villages nearby were without power for three
days, this stalled work on the house, and left Vartan and Vahan
freezing in the village with no heat and nothing to do, they retreated
to Vanadzor until the power returned. They have made quite a bit of
progress all interior walls are built, doors and windows are
installed, and rough electrical and plumbing is done, and the particle
board floor installed. The bathroom fell a little behind as they still
need to pour the concrete floor, then tile the floor and walls. They
were doing finish carpentry of baseboard and casing, and will paint
once the tile work in the bathroom is done.
After attempting to drive home late last week after being warned that
it was dangerous, I now agree that in Armenia in a Niva driving
outside of the city at night is dangerous. A person can hardly see
the white line in the center, and the edge of the road is even harder
to find, and other driver are just fine to pass with high-beams on,
the real fun came when some one tries to pass on a turn leaving little
road left to find in the dark. So I left early and in a 10 hour round
trip I was in the car for 6 hours, back before dark and glad to be
back with the family.

I Need A CHIROPRACTOR!!!

Richard Garabedian where are you?!!!! I don't know if it is because I
haven't worked out consistently in over 2 months, or if it is because
I am hunched over using those blasted tumbleweed brooms made for
Munchkins, I'm sorry, Little People, or if it is because there are 3
potholes for every 3 meters (like that, I've gone metric!) of road and
the jarring is finally getting to me OR it could be a FEW things wrong
with my BED! Let me describe my previous sleeping arrangements in the
States...Kalem and I had a firm Cal-King mattress with a 3 inch
"Memory Foam" on top. 1,000,000 thread count, 100% Egyptian Cotton
sheets on a Half-Sleigh Bed made out of dark Mahogany wood, not that I
really remember sleeping in that bed, since it was over 2 months ago!
Please don't read snobbery in the description of what was formerly
know as "My Bed", just imagine comfort; sheer and utter nocturnal
bliss when I snuggled in with the sheets enclosing my face like a
hooded sweatshirt. And lest I be remiss to speak about my Pillow, my
Sweet, Sweet, SWEET pillow! It too is constructed of "Memory Foam"
matching the very curvature of my neck and holding my spine at
ergonomic perfection. (For those of you who would like to visit this
sleep shrine call 555-Circle K Ranch for visiting hours and admission
pricing; senior citizens discounts, food stamps and coupons are NOT
accepted!)
So a long day of sweeping like a hunchback, being thrown about in the
front seat of the Niva, and my lack of stomach and back strength all
play a role in my aching back and spine but the bed here really takes
the cake. As you recall ALL 5 of us SLEEP in THE SAME ROOM!!!!, I
know that many of you practice "co-sleeping" with your newborns up to
age...? But this is the whole lot of us like Rob Roy MacGregor or
something. Judi and Peter have "twin" beds (they are about 1/3
smaller than a twin in the US) and the head and footboards move in and
out at the slightest touch. Poor Frankie sleeps in between Jude and
Pete on one of those inflatable twin mattresses and as of late, every
morning we wake up to either the bed being totally flat or it has
deflated enough so that he has slid half-way (feet and legs) under
Judi or Peter's bed. Now, our bed; our bed looks like regal queen
size with a extra-super-high-high-gloss reddish, brown wood appearance
(it is really a styro-epoxy-foam frame with wood painting)and fancy
curls and swoops on the headboard. The mattress, sans box spring sits
on a 8" high black wood box, so it is quite low to the ground. The
mattress is a WELL WORN spring type and you can actually feel EACH and
EVERY individual spring. I have learned to negotiate a semi-
comfortable position with limited spring contact, BUT if by chance I
move in the dead of night I am reminded quickly and painfully not to
try that again. So the mattress is less than ideal but the pillows
are even more of a difficulty. The pillows that were on the queen
were "European" 2 1/2 Feet Square. At that size if we laid the
pillows down flat and placed our heads appropriately then our feet
were dangling quite uncomfortably over the edge at some distance. But
if we moved up on the pillows to fit inside the bed, then not only
were our heads on the pillows but so were our shoulders and arms down
to the elbow, and our ribcage...if you can't picture it...it is NOT a
very satisfying sleeping position. Also, I have heard of duck down or
goose down filled pillows, but I think they have the WHOLE BIRD in the
pillow too! Forget building houses. I am going to open a SLEEP
NUMBER or TEMPERPEDIC Shop on Abovyan!!!
Needless to say, after 2 1/2 months sleeping in these contorted
positions I am in desperate need of a chiropractor, Richard COME, NOW
PLEASE and bring my darling DEANNA and the luvy love girlie girls
too!!!! Until you get here I will try a massage...I have an
appointment today, my first ever in my life even though my sweet and
caring mother-in-law tried to gift this to me at least twice!!!
Thanks Mama Jane! Pray that it helps. Now please don't feel sorry
for me...after all if our lives were perfectly seemless what on earth
would we write about! God's Peace to you all and to all a Good NIGHT
(sleep)! Jonelle;)

A Strange Day

May 1st is Labor Day in Armenia and other parts of the world, it fell
on a Thursday this year, so government offices, banks, and some stores
were closed. Even on Friday some stores and shops were closed and the
traffic was lighter. Then came Saturday, was probably the most
normal, with some kids returning to school (school is normal here on
Saturdays) but it was still a little strange as this holiday feeling
lingered. Then came Sunday, I was anxious to see what would happen as
I had heard that government offices would be open, and students would
be expected at school. Sure enough church attendance was a fraction
of what it is regularly and the city activity was more like a weekday
than a Sunday. In the evening traffic was a little lighter than usual
(only holidays and Sundays), as it seemed people tried to regain their
lost Sunday. All this crazy schedule changing to honor the workers by
making them work on Sunday! Needless to say it was the very topic of
the sermon. Making it the strangest of the four days.
We attended the an Armenian service in the morning and were told
about an English service that evening, so we went to both. The kids
receive grades for their behavior in church, 5 in Armenia is
equivalent to a A, and 4 is a B etc... The family average is about
2.5 usually. For some reason Peter pulled out a 5 this morning at the
Armenian service and we couldn't believe it (3 has been the family
high), then at the English service in the evening he managed a 0, with
shouts of "is it over yet," "this is too long," and "can we go
please!" during the sermon and prayer time. This English speaking
church service was also very strange with med students from India, and
other students from Asia and Africa, Non-Governmental Organization
(NGO) workers from all over the world, and a few locals. It was the
most multicultural church we have been to in a long time, and it felt
strangely familiar and comfortable to be amidst this mix of people all
speaking English.
The evening topper was getting a frozen pizza from the supermarket
for dinner and upon opening it finding hot dog chucks as the featured
meat! At least it wasn't coated in Mayonnaise as most other pizzas
are. The kids didn't get to bed until 10 (2 hours past their 8 p.m.
bedtime), celebrated with fireworks over the city for who know what?
Although these things may or may not seem strange to you, we continue
in the cultural daze that we call life here, with glimpses of
normality on occasion. Leaving us asking ourselves over and over
again, "really what is normal?"

Attitude of Grattitude

We recently had an American guest to our home for dinner, and in
conversing after dinner, I found myself running down a long list of
differences in living between Armenia and America. You might
remember, "the potholes everywhere, traffic lights that don't work,
corrupt police, a very uncomfortable bed, the kids are constantly
getting sick from kindergarden, the gas goes off and so does our hot
water, heater and half of our stove, the internet connection needs to
be reset constantly because it has trouble staying connected, the
water has been off for as long as a full day and about once a week,
and then the worst one of all when the power goes out so does
everything else, since the water is pumped electrically from a tank,
the hot water heater has an automatic electronic ignition, the oven is
electric, and the dsl internet doesn't work with out power." To my
surprise he said something like, "I have been to places where they
don't have any of those problems, because they don't have any of those
things!" I just listened humbly to him tell of life in third world
countries where people live in mud huts, with out any of the luxuries
of gas, power or any other connection to the outside world. Where
they are grateful to have a place to sleep and live off of the dirt.
We were reminded of our family's theme for the year of having an
"attitude of gratitude," something we will defiantly need as we are
soon to transition into life in the village. Where I am sure we will
have a new list of things that don't work like America, or even like
Yerevan. We are so grateful for friends and family, for your prayers
and encouragement, as we struggle with these minor hardships, for the
sake of sharing the good news of salvation by grace through faith, and
as we help provide a little better quality of life and bring a renewed
hope to a downtrodden place.

Janapar

Janapar has many meanings: Paree Janapar (have a good trip), Vor
Janapar (What Road), Garch Janapar (Short Cut), Oreesh Janapar
(different way), Janapar! (get out of the way).
While working in the village this last week, I found out that our
"front lawn," which is really the back weeds, is really most of the
above. It is a short cut through the houses from the road and fields
down the hill, a different way to go, and it is almost turning into a
road at least for horses drawn carts. I almost use the "Janapar!"
statement to all the people just watching as I was carrying rocks into
the house to raise the bathroom floor.
The project is progressing very nicely, Vahan and Vartan are just
doing the best job. They are sleeping in the house, working 12 hour
days, and are doing quality work. With two local masters I was the
apprentice, moving rocks, mixing cement, bringing tools, etc. When I
volunteered to help build a wall, I was told "do you know how to do
this" Sure I can learn, but their response was, "No, these are
Master's tools, you can bring some water." It was mostly in jest as
I learned quite a bit about different mortar and plaster mixes and
procedures.
The funniest thing is when I laid the bathroom out originally it was
9' x 9' then they said it was too big, okay I consented down to 6' x
7', and now once the bathroom is built, they said it is too small!
This could be added to Jonelle's blog, "the way it is."

Vie Frankie: Part 2

One day I went to pick up the kids from Mangabardez and walked in to find Frankie dressed like this...but with his tennis shoes on!  Apparently he had an accident and his pants were spoiled or should I say SOILED, and this was all they had for him..teal girl's tights, size 6x with little Zummer Babi's (Santa Claus; literally Winter Papa) on the sides.  I could not stop laughing...I was trying to control myself what with the possibility of YET ANOTHER complex for my poor children...but I just COULD NOT contain myself.  And, if it was ANY one else they would have cried or had hurt feelings but not Frankie...he is my "tough-guy in teal tights"!  Jonelle; )