In the U.S., if you want to get to another city, you look online to find the times, the prices, and the tickets. In Armenia, you ask your friend who asks her friend who asks his brother who knows the bus driver. And then you call the bus driver directly and he tells you where to find the bus.
When I first tried to find my way around Armenia, this mysterious network baffled me. How did everyone know where to go and what to do? Was there some weird telepathic connection that I just wasn’t Armenian enough to tap into?
In a way, it was. Out of necessity, I was forced to talk to get around: calling friends, asking bus drivers, and forcing my halting Armenian to work for me. And to my surprise, as I did it more and more, it started to seem normal to me. Phone conversations, a major anxiety at home, became pleasant. And I felt a strange sense of power being the one in a group to ask a question on the bus, or talk on the phone to a taxi driver. It finally came home to me when I was talking to my mom the other day, and she was worrying about planning our upcoming trip through the villages of the Tavush region.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m going to talk to these people on the phone, they’ll help us, just give it time and everything will be figured out.”
I almost took myself by surprise. I never would have said that at home, especially needing to find accommodations in remote places, find a translator, and set up interviews. But in four weeks here, I sent some messages, called up an Armenian priest, and by coincidence met three people through work who know people in the town we want to go to, and have the phone numbers of two village mayors. That’s the thing that continues to amaze me about the Armenian network--people who have no reason to do so are ready to help you at the drop of a hat. There’s no beating around the bush, searching for information, not knowing who to talk to; you just go ask.
“Why would you want to come live here?” one of my friends asked me.
It struck me as ironic, because with this friend I had not only explored Yerevan after work, but had coffee with his friend, eaten khorovats with his cousins in the village, and ended up talking to his friend’s mom in their living room over coffee and an enormous plate of fresh fruit. I failed to explain to him why this was so wonderful to me, because it seemed absolutely normal to him.
As an anthropology student, this is why living and working abroad is the dream. You really come to understand culture, beyond the most obvious expressions of art and history. You see things like the famous Armenian hospitality, which is far more than a tradition of lavishly welcoming guests. It is a mindset; a set of beliefs and practices so ingrained that they shape every facet of life.
Program: Overseas Professional and Intercultural Training Program
Term: Summer 2018