Armenia: The Tour

Garni Temple, Armenia

Spoiler alert: Armenian churches are pretty much like Georgian churches. Which is to say that if you've seen one Georgian church, you've seen all Georgian (and Armenian) churches.


Kathy and I took the Envoy Hostel's Essential Tour, which has a focus on churches and monasteries. (Any tour in the Caucasus is going to include churches, monasteries, or perhaps in the case of Azerbaijan, mosques.)

In our little marshrutka-tour group were two Russians, a gregarious Irishman and his pre-school daughter, four women who work in Dubai but who are from the U.S., Canada, Malaysia, and Hong Kong; three Americans who are TLG teachers in Georgia, an American who works for the BBC in the Caucasus, the tour guide, the driver, and a tour guide trainee.

First stop: Lake Sevan and the Sevanavank Monastery. It was bitterly, brutally cold as we walked up the thousands of cold, gray, icy steps. Our cheeks burned from the freezing wind.

Sevanavank Monastery, Lake Sevan, Armenia

Under normal circumstances, I'd have waited patiently for my fellow tourists to be outside of the photo frame to capture the postcard beauty of the monastery, the lake, and the snowy surroundings, but one can only do so much for one's art. It was so cold ... what was that English idiom I meant to teach my police class? ... as cold as a witch's tit in a brass bra.

The two women in the pretty, white coats were in Armenia from Dubai (which, right now in this very moment, is enjoying the most perfect balmy weather), but they came to Armenia to see the snow and, I guess, to experience the novelty of shivering.

Lake Sevan, Armenia

Sevanavank Monastery, Lake Sevan, Armenia

Armenians (and Georgians) like to joke that the one thing Armenia has plenty of is stone.

2nd stop: Another church. Made of stone.

3rd stop: Noratus Cemetery in a large village (~ 9000 people). I'd have loved to have spent more time here, but the cold and snow made wandering around not so enticing. The cemetery is famous for the stories the tombstones tell about the lives or deaths of those buried here. The cemetery dates back to the 9th century.

 

Khachkars (stone crosses) at Noratus Cemetery, Armenia

Death story at Noratus Cemetery, Armenia

Khachkars (stone crosses) at Noratus Cemetery, Armenia

4th stop: Bathroom stop and lunch.

Garni Temple, Armenia

5th stop: Garni Temple. A sweet gem. Built on the edge of a scenic river gorge.

View of river gorge from Garni Temple, Armenia

A visual palate cleanser from the typical Caucasian spiritual architecture, Garni Temple is allegedly the only pagan temple allowed to remain standing from prior holy wars against ungodly structures.

Garni Temple, Armenia

Garni Temple, Armenia

Garni Temple, Armenia

From Garni Temple, we marshrutka'd to the last tour stop, Geghard Monastery, which has an Indiana Jones vibe in the interiors.

Geghard Monastery, Armenia

Geghard Monastery, Armenia

Geghard Monastery, Armenia

Two priests prayed:

Can you smell the frankincense?

Geghard Monastery, Armenia

Armenia: The Four Things You Must Try

Dinner at Afrikyanneri Pankok restaurant in Yerevan

Before I went to Armenia, I was told by Georgians there were four things I must try:

1. Tolma
2. Cognac
3. Sujuk or basturma - types of sausage, with the latter being quite peppery
4. Go to Lake Sevan

None of these Georgians had actually been in Armenia, mind you, but they had their recommendations nonetheless.

On our first day in Armenia, Kathy and I were able to tick three things off the list:

Yerevan is filled with basement restaurants and clubs. By chance, we selected the Afrikyanneri Pandok restaurant, which has been in business since 1829 or so.  At least according to a sign.

Dinner at Afrikyanneri Pankok restaurant in Yerevan

The interior was castle-ish and intimate. An oxymoron, I know.

There were musicians.

Dinner at Afrikyanneri Pankok restaurant in Yerevan

A variety of bread was served. I thought it was just so-so, though it looked delicious.

The tolma tasted good, though I find the Georgian version, whether wrapped in grape or cabbage leaves, to be just as fine.

Kathy deemed the hummus the best she'd ever had. 

Dinner at Afrikyanneri Pankok restaurant in Yerevan

The salad Kathy ordered had a delicious yogurt-and-cheese dressing that I thought was the best part of the entire meal. But we both loved the fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, and parlsey. Winter in Georgia makes one long for such garden-brightness. Locavority be damned sometimes.

Kathy and I finished our dinner with two different kinds of cognac: Ararat and Ani. Not being a connoisseur, my humble opinion is that they tasted like a very smooth tcha-tcha, with a pleasing amber color. For my money, I'd just go with a good tcha-tcha. 

After dinner, we walked back to Center Hostel, noting that Yerevan's pavement was not as treacherous as that in Georgia.

We stopped at a corner market.

Corner market in Yerevan

I bought a sujuk, which the proprietor sliced for me.

Sujuk from Armenia

I also bought a smallish bag of tiny spiced crackers and two of what Kathy and I thought were dried fruit - maybe peaches or oranges.

Herb in corner market, Yerevan

We climbed the four floors to our hostel and chatted awhile with the warm hostess, Suzanne. Kathy speaks some German and so does Suzanne, so they were able to communicate fairly effectively, Kathy keeping me apprised of the conversation. I shared some of the Gori wine I'd brought with me (which Mariami had given to me on that glorious, rainy day where we picnicked in a Fiat), and we cut into the dried fruit.

Which turned out to be a peach packed with sugar and chopped walnuts. To me, it was like eating a tablespoon of sugar (not a tasty experience), but Kathy, who loves sweets, liked it.  I'm still not sure how all of this sugar/walnuts got into the peach, but I think it involved boiling the peach for a long time, and then .... I dunno.


Presently our tasty day was complete.  We got into our respective bunk beds, under the most soothing-swaddling of duvets and the simple pleasure of not having to wear socks to bed! What freedom!

We Interrupt Armenia to Bring You Rustavi

Great new song about "chemi kalaki' (my city), Rustavi:

Armenia: Flexibility in the Caucasus

Back in January, Jennifer, Sandy, and I settled on this past weekend to go to Armenia. This is because Jennifer had returned from her winter vacation to a whopping high electric bill in Dmanisi and had to stick close to home for awhile to save money.

.... ohhhh, wait. That was the trip to Kutaisi that we scheduled for the last weekend of February because of the above situation. But then Jennifer fell on the ice and messed up her knee so she had to cancel, and Sandy and I went without her.

So, anyway, back to Armenia.

When I learned that International Women's Day was a really big deal in these here parts - a day off from school! - I called Sandy and Jennifer with the idea of going to Armenia.

(By the way, IWD around here seems to be a day that women receive flowers and gifts from the men in their lives. Women without men in their lives feel a little sad on this day. There's something so not about womanly empowerment in this concept.)

"Yes!" said Jennifer.

"Yes!" said Sandy.

We weighed the pros and cons of getting to Yerevan, Armenia, via train, marshrutka, or shared taxi. We looked at the hostel choices. We moved our schedules around to free up Friday so we could have a full, four-day weekend. Oh, it was going to be grand!

Jennifer called a few days before the trip. Her knee had not healed; she was in a lot of pain; she had to cancel. Sandy and I were disappointed that Jennifer couldn't come, but we were still on. We booked the hostel for three nights. We reserved our places on an all-day tour to Lake Sevan and other Armenian highlights.

Sandy felt a little bummed because she had caught a cold, but she was confident it'd clear up by the time we left on Thursday morning. [Yes, this is more foreshadowing.]

On Wednesday evening, another colleague, Kathy, called and asked if it was too late to join us. No, that'd be great! We are flexible here in the Caucasus!

I reserved an additional spot on the Saturday tour. I contacted the hostel and asked for a room change to accommodate three people instead of two.

Thursday morning! Finally here! Up early and ..... beep beep beep! my phone text signaled.

Poor Sandy. She'd taken a major turn for the worse and had to cancel.

Flexibility was feeling a bit tiresome at this point, but I sent an email to un-reserve the third spot on that Saturday tour. I emailed the hostel to please make the switch back to a private, two-bed room instead of the larger space. 

Sandy and I had earlier settled on taking the marshrutka down to Yerevan, and Kathy and I stuck with that plan. We met at the Ortachala Bus Station, intending to take the 9:00 marshrutka to Yerevan (for 30 lari or $18), but we got there just as that marshrutka pulled out (before 9:00 a.m.). It was full. So we got into the 10:00 marshrutka and waited around for it to either get filled or the clock to reach 10:00 a.m., whichever came first.

We were lucky in several respects. 

• We had several empty seats at 10:00 a.m., so things felt roomy rather than cramped. 
• There was another TLGer and a Peace Corps volunteer on board, doubling the potential for interesting conversation.
• A manager of the Envoy Hostel in Yerevan was also on board, returning from a visit to the soon-to-open Envoy Hostel in Tbilisi. He spoke excellent English. 

Let the adventure begin!





 

Letters from Matt #6: Eagle River, Alaska: Birdsong and Wind

Letters From Matt are letters from my brother, Matt, from various of his domestic and international travels. The letters span decades, and I share them on Living Rootless at intervals, in no particular order. 

23 May 1984

Eagle River, Alaska

Dear family,

I have been driving now for a very, very long time. I feel as if I’ve almost driven around the world. Right now I’m a few miles west of Haines Junction, Yukon Territory. It’s very nice – right among the Kuane Mountain range; snow is in the high spots and in the creek and river bottom; pine trees abound.

The strangest experience is that of being alone for over a week. I took a hiker from Columbia to Kansas City and another from Kansas City to Denver. I had a beer with a gas station attendant in Deer Creek, Alberta, and the night before last I conversed all night with an Indian. So I’ve talked to no more than 5 or 6 people all week. There are no words to make a good description of what it’s like because it’s perfectly silent save bird songs and the wind. When you don’t have anyone to talk to, the mind activity is streamlined and accelerated. That doesn’t mean I’m getting any smarter, it just means I’m getting a short dose (temporary, of course) of craziness.

I know it shouldn’t have happened and wouldn’t have happened if I were keeping good records, but I’m not sure whether it’s Saturday or Sunday. Luckily, I’ll be able to find out next time I buy some gas. But what would happen if I were off the road and not near a gas station. It kind of makes me wonder just how long I would last.

With four exceptions, most of my experiences have been visual (I’ve got two rolls of film to prove that). I won’t bore you anymore with any of it, but I did at least want to get a letter off so you could know I’m still alive and that I’ll probably make it. I only have about 600 miles to go. I should be in Anchorage tomorrow evening (Sunday or Monday – maybe Tuesday, who knows).

Love,

Matt

P.S. Did you know that it doesn’t get dark here til after 11:00 p.m. and it gets light about 4:00 a.m.? It makes bedtime seem like an afternoon nap.

Kutaisi: Brains and Snafu

Go here for Kutaisi: This Wasn't in the Brochures!
Go here for Kutaisi: Walking Down to Town

Let me just shoot straight for the cool part of this story: I had brains for lunch!

Kutaisi, Georgia - Brains

They were bubbling brains. How'd they taste? Not bad. Kinda good. Slightly crispy on the bottom.

Sandy had the tolma, which is the Georgian version of Greek dolmades.

We both had beer, as we were at a Mirzaani brewery chain restaurant/tavern.   

Kutaisi - Beer at Mirzaani

 Here's a look at the menu:

I was tempted by the hen entrails. No, that's a lie.

We tasted the mushroom and potato khinkali. We both loved the mushroom khinkali.  (Between you and me, I've had my fill of meat khinkali.)

Before we went to Mirzaani, we went to the tourist office to inquire about the caves. Ah. They probably won't be open til March or April. Yes, maybe April. This is the snafu part of the title. Part 1 of the snafu part.

We asked the tourist official what under-valued thing there is to see in or around Kutaisi, you know, the places she wishes tourists would go see, but don't know about. Her response: There's nothing to see in Kutaisi except the caves, the Gelati monastery, Motsameti Church, and the Bagrati cathedral. Sandy and I stood and blinked at her.


We planned to go to Gelati Monastery and Motsameti Church the next morning, as that'd be the best time to catch a marshrutka both ways, saving serious taxi fare. So we explored the town center.

Though the new part of Kutaisi is pretty dismal, old town is very pretty.

Kutaisi, Georgia - blueberrish berries

Kutaisi, Georgia - Old town

Kutaisi, Georgia - City center park

Kutaisi, Georgia - City center park

Kutaisi, Georgia - Opera House

Kutaisi, Georgia - Opera House

Kutaisi, Georgia - Opera House

Kutaisi, Georgia - pedestrian walkway

Kutaisi, Georgia -  Radium Building interior

Kutaisi, Georgia - Radium Building exterior

Kutaisi, Georgia

Kutaisi, Georgia

We scouted the location where to pick up our marshrutka the next morning for Gelati Monastery, then caught a taxi back to Giorgi's.

.... and got up Sunday morning to .... what the hell?!

Kutaisi - Giorgi's guest house from balcony

Kutaisi - Giorgi;s guest house view from balcony

Snow!!! Gah!!!!!

We loaded our gear onto our backs and began the walk down the bluff. That's Sandy hunkering down against the snowfall.

Kutaisi, Georgia - Chanchibadze Street

We came to the bottom of the steps next to the Rioni River.

Kutaisi, Georgia

We walked (and slipped and slid) to the marshrutka station only to be told that, no, there won't be any marshrutkas going up to Gelati Monastery due to the snow. Being flexible individuals, we turned to each other, shrugged, and said "let's go get breakfast!"

No sooner did we turn to walk up the street than we saw a marshrutka appear, stop, and from nowhere, a clutch of women prepare to board same. Wah? Not being that flexible, we decided to skip culture and stick with the breakfast instead. So ended Snafu, Part 2.

But it was too early in the morning to find breakfast in old town, even with the assistance of a police officer. (Yes, a police officer escorted us to various businesses in the hopes of finding one open.) So we again pulled out some flexibility and decide to go to McDonald's and then get on a marshrutka back home, me to Rustavi and Sandy to Gori. We slid over to another street to get a marshrutka, asking before boarding: "McDonald's"? The driver and his companions looked a little perplexed, but indicated to us to board, which we did, and the marshrutka took off. When it passed the turn-off, we knew something was awry, so began an attempt at communicating "McDonalds," "McDonalds," and "McDonalds," in various tempos, intonations, and levels of loudness that all humans endeavor to employ with the magical thinking that somehow such will result in understanding by the opposite party.

When this, of course, did not work, I mimed the act of taking a bite out of a burger, which elicited the immediate clarification and correct Georgian word for same: MACdonalds!

Oh, right. We had been saying mcDONalds. No wonder they didn't understand.

With cultural harmony now restored, the driver and his companions told us to get off the marshrutka and get on a different one, down the street. Which we did, and we arrived at MACdonald's.

Sandy really had a hankerin' for some McD's, but when we went by the drivers at the marshrutka station next to McDonald's, we asked about a marshrutka to Gori, which would be the perfect scenario for Sandy, instead of just being dropped off on the marshrutka's way to Tbilisi (which is where I'd go before finishing my last leg to Rustavi). A driver said he was about to leave for Gori in 10 minutes and that another one wouldn't leave til noon. (It was now about 10:00.) Sandy quavered a few moments between McDonald's and the promise of a direct line to Gori, then went with the Gori marshrutka.

I was in a more flexible situation, as marshrutkas to Tbilisi left hourly, so I went on in to McDonald's for coffee and breakfast, and later walked out and onto a waiting marshrutka.

Sandy was not so lucky. Her marshrutka was not a Gori marshrutka. It was a Tbilisi marshrutka and the driver just dropped her off alongside the highway in a place where she couldn't even see Gori. Sandy felt abandoned, wondering what the hell she was going to do. Fortunately, she actually saw a local marshrutka approach and all ended well. So ended Snafu, Part 3.

We'll go to Kutaisi again - in the spring when the caves are open. We'll call ahead.

Kutaisi: Staircase Art

A beautiful decaying staircase in old town Kutaisi.

Kutaisi, Georgia. Staircase 1.

Kutaisi, Georgia. Staircase 2.

Kutaisi, Georgia. Staircase 3.

Kutaisi, Georgia. Staircase 4.

Kutaisi: Walking Down to Town

Go here for Part 1: Kutaisi: This Wasn't in the Brochures! 

Bus #1 dropped us off in the city center. Next step: Call Giorgi's Guest House for further instruction on how to get there. Sandy made the call and the word was: Get a taxi. Give the phone to the taxi driver. Giorgi's daughter gave the driver directions. Five lari.

This seemed kind of pricey until we began making our way up and up and up onto the bluff overlooking the city center on narrow lanes.

The guesthouse is on Chanchibadze Street, #24 or thereabouts.

The owners are engaging and speak pretty good English. During the high season, Giorgi nformed us that he ferries guests in a van to the local sights, which is a huge benefit. His house is large. There are two private guest rooms upstairs and a dorm on the ground level. There are two "wet" shower-toilet rooms out on the balcony. I believe there's a shower room-toilet downstairs, as well.

Didn't see the dorm room. Here's the private room Sandy and I shared. Good thing we get along well; it's a double bed, for which we paid 20 lari each. 

Kutaisi - Giorgi's guest house bedroom

We felt a little depressed that we had to go out into the cold to use the bathroom, and the room was chilly despite the small oil-filled radiator heater. We were looking forward to sleeping somewhere that we didn't have to wear our socks, long underwear, and hats to bed. We can do that at home and not have to pay extra for it.

Kutaisi - Giorgi's guest house - bathrooms on the balcony

Next time we go to Kutaisi, we'll try another place - one closer to city center. It's easy enough to walk down the hill to town from the Giorgi's; not so inviting trudging up hill after a long day and evening walking about in town. Paying 5 lari for a taxi for each day's return to the guest house is a bit much.

Anyway, we got settled in to our room, had a nice cup of coffee and tea and a chat with Giorgi, prepared by his smiling daughter, and then struck out for the town below.

Here's what we saw on the way:

Kutaisi, Georgia - Kazbegi Street

Kutaisi, Georgia - Kazbegi Street

Kutaisi, Georgia - Kazbegi Street

Kutaisi, Georgia - Kazbegi Street

Kutaisi, Georgia - Bagreti under renovation

View of Kutaisi old town from Bagreti

Kutaisi - A happy couple

We arrived at steps that would give us a pedestrian shortcut straight down to the city's ground level rather than having to negotiate the twisty-turny streets that would likely get us lost. We spilled out along the Rioni River.

Rioni River, Kutaisi, Georgia

 
Georgia (and its former region, Abkhazia) is known for its caves; Kutaisi is filled with karst formations. In fact, the primary reason we came to Kutaisi [note: major foreshadowing highlighted in turquoise] was to visit three famous caves: Sataplia, Promete, and Navenakhevi Caves.

The river shows this karst limestone. It's not so much attractive as .. .unusual. The trash that lies along the bank is not so much unusual as it is ... unattractive.

Trash in Rioni River, Kutaisi, Georgia

We also saw bags of flour for sale at a store at the bottom of the steps.

Kutaisi, Georgia

Next: Brains and Snafu

Kutaisi: This Wasn't in the Brochures!

Sandy, Jennifer, and I were to go to Kutaisi together, but Jennifer was the victim of a fall on ice. She twisted her knee badly enough to ground her in Dmanisi. Both Sandy and I have also fallen on the snow or ice, but we were lucky not to have injured ourselves.

Saturday morning, I took a marshrutka from Rustavi to the Didube station in Tbilisi. Didube is a public transportation hub with a metro stop and local and regional marshrutkas, buses, and taxis.

Didube also has a large bazaar with produce, meat, cheese, spices, clothing, and small household items. Here's a funky little video of the market interior.

A local marshrutka driver kindly escorted me to the line of Kutaisi-bound marshrutkas. I bought two tickets - one for me and one for Sandy, who we'd scoop up alongside the road as we drove by Gori, where she is based. Cost per ticket = 10 lari.

With the help of her hostess, Sandy got a taxi to the locally-known usual spot along the highway to catch marshrutkas, buses, and shared taxis barreling to other Georgian destinations. The pick-up was choreographed via intense (and several) phone conversations between my marshrutka driver's assistant and Sandy's taxi driver. It was slightly stressful for Sandy, as her taxi driver seemed a little obtuse, but it worked out OK, and we plucked her off the road and we were on our way in earnest to Kutaisi.

.... where we got off in a Soviet-style part of the city at a stretch of the muddy, be-rubbled road next to the McDonald's.

We'd denied ourselves our morning coffee or tea to prepare for our marshurtka ride, and we really didn't have a clue how to get to our guesthouse, so we popped into the McDonald's for hot liquid, a bathroom, and some direction. Ran into two TLGers, one placed in Kutaisi and the other visiting from her placement in Svaneti. They gave us the scoop on the bus (#1) to city center, where we'd call the guesthouse for further instructions.

After a relaxing chat and drink, they took off and so did we. Sandy and I made our way across the perilous street and onto the muddy, icy, rubble-filled, flooded street and non-sidewalk. Men appeared at our sides wanting to taxi us to Batumi or other destination. One man in particular kept hanging next to my elbow beseeching me to go somewhere til finally I said, in exasperation, "Ra ginda?" [What do you want?] He put his arms up and backed away. Finally.

When Sandy and I travel together, we can't help but laugh at how reality and our expectations are so off the mark, and this was no exception. As we walked through melt water and icy sludge through a shattered pavement, we could only laugh at how different this scene was from our imaginings of Georgia.

Kutaisi, Georgia - This wasn't in the brochure!

 But we found the right bus and successfully reached the city center.

Next: Walking Down to Town

Letters from Matt #5: Wassenaar, Netherlands: I Am Christopher Robin

Letters From Matt are letters from my brother, Matt, from various of his domestic and international travels. The letters span decades, and I share them on Living Rootless at intervals, in no particular order.

15 July 1998

Wassenaar, Netherlands

Dear Family,

At the moment, I’m back in Wassenar. This place is fantastically pleasant. It’s so quiet, cool, and green here. Bicycles glide effortlessly along smooth bike paths, crossing arched bridges across still, black canal waters speckled green with duckweed.

The trails take you forever through ancient woods to hidden meadows and secluded ponds with cattails on one end, two boys fishing on the other end. Onward through the woods, an elderly couple stroll arm in arm, slowly, quietly.

I come upon a velvety green meadow. No one but me. The sun comes out. The air is cool yet the sun feels warm on my skin. Burying my face in the grass the smell of warm wet grass brings a flood of childhood imagery in the backyard of Bradley Road or the lawns of our house in Middle Bass or Sudden Valley. Brother #1 says he wishes you could see it. I think it’s great medicine.

I think I’m Christopher Robin.

Love,

Matt

Armenia: "There's Nothing There"

I'm not in Armenia yet - will go next weekend.

But when I shared my upcoming trip with my adult students, they said, "Why are you going to Armenia? There's nothing there?!" Out of approximately 20 students, only one had ever actually been to Armenia - once. Another had even worked on the BORDER between Georgia and Armenia, and had never been. And another THOUGHT she'd been to Armenia, but remembered that, no, that was Azerbaijan.

I have heard this kind of talk before from Georgians (and TLGers) about other places in Georgia. At a meeting with TLG bloggers last week, a colleague and I talked about instituting a "Nothing There" tour, where we visit nothing-there locations in Georgia and either confirm or deny the allegations. 

Notwithstanding the upcoming trip to Armenia, which I'm sure has one or two things of interest, my first nothing-there tour will be to Gardabani.

So stay tuned.

Being Rootless Means No Spring Cleaning

In the New York Times article, Getting a Jump on Spring Cleaning, the author gives excellent tips for the annual (or for some germ-phobes, semi-annual) cleaning extravaganza.

I never was much on such grand gestures when I was rooted, but sometimes I felt guilty about it. Now I have no home to spring clean and pretty much no stuff. Ergo, no cleaning and no guilt. Tra la. 

Georgia: Teacher Talking Time

I was invited to give a presentation at a conference in Tbilisi. The conference is this Sunday, March 4. The organization is CETE (Center for Excellence in Teaching English), which is affiliated with TESOL (Teachers of English to Speakers of Other Languages), and of which I am an individual member. 

I cast about for presentation topics and settled on reducing teacher talking time (TTT). Too much TTT was a particular challenge for me in my CELTA training, and it is a decided challenge for Georgian instructors in general. As I prepare for my presentation, I'm really glad I chose it because it's refreshing my knowledge about TTT and how I can continue to reduce mine. 

... and speaking of teaching in Georgia, classroom management is always in the top 5 of the hot topics. So I loved Phil in the Blank's crooked-book strategy for same (reference Phil's #1). Phil used to be a middle-school teacher so he knows whereof he speaks. 

 

Georgia: Spring Coming?

Flowers have appeared in the Georgian markets.

Is it possible? Could it mean .... there will be a spring?