Yerevan
The following weekend I decided it was time for another long trip (rather, my time here is running out and I wanted to make it to Armenia). I found out that the Swedish guy (from Lund, speaks Skåne dialect) 
working for UNDP here was going to Yerevan. I hinted that I was planning a trip there as well—he accepted the hint and invited me to join him, his wife, baby, and a friend. I was only going to drive there with them but somehow we ended up spending the weekend together. A big reason was that they had a car, a big one. And crossing the boarder with somebody who has a real diplomatic passport is really cool… When we got to the boarder, he waved his passport and they let us pass all the other cars. This could have made me feel guilty but it was somewhat of a pleasure, I cannot deny it. It was hot, the lines were long, and indeed, we had a mission: we needed to get to Yerevan (as if everybody else had less of that mission…)
We found a cheap hotel, with great breakfast included (Lavash—finally a break from white Georgian bread and some whole wheat flour!) We looked around the city (the cascade, mother Armenia who holds a sword pointing towards Turkey).
The city was clean with functioning toilets and seemed quite well off though the countryside is very poor. In the afternoon we went to the Museum of Armenian Genocide. It was horrific. 1.5 million were killed, mostly from 1917-22. There were pictures, quotes, a garden with trees planted by foreign powers who recognize what happened. Turkey is notably absent. When I talk to Georgians about this they say, “Armenians need to get over it…we are tired of hearing about their pain.” They mock how 95 percent of Armenian dissertations in Social sciences are about the Genocide. It hardly seems like one can have any business criticizing people for remembering such a gaping hell-hole in history. Outside the museum I met the first Norwegian I have seen here. He was from Oslo and had been traveling alone for 5 weeks in Iran—without any problems. He had seen Mt. Ararat from Iran, Turkey and now Armenia. We saw it from Yerevan though it was very cloudy and smoggy.
Tiring of the city we continued on our way to Garni, location of a 5th Century Roman temple. Garni had beautiful mountains and we decided to spend the night in the village, with an Armenian family, who gave us supper. I wandered around and saw men herding their cattle, kids playing in abandoned cars, and groups of women sitting on rocks outside their houses, eating Semitchka (sunflower seeds).
The following morning we almost literally stumbled upon a stunning site—sharp and patterned rock formation in the mountains. We swam in lake Sevan on the way home and made it back to Tbilisi by evening time.
working for UNDP here was going to Yerevan. I hinted that I was planning a trip there as well—he accepted the hint and invited me to join him, his wife, baby, and a friend. I was only going to drive there with them but somehow we ended up spending the weekend together. A big reason was that they had a car, a big one. And crossing the boarder with somebody who has a real diplomatic passport is really cool… When we got to the boarder, he waved his passport and they let us pass all the other cars. This could have made me feel guilty but it was somewhat of a pleasure, I cannot deny it. It was hot, the lines were long, and indeed, we had a mission: we needed to get to Yerevan (as if everybody else had less of that mission…)We found a cheap hotel, with great breakfast included (Lavash—finally a break from white Georgian bread and some whole wheat flour!) We looked around the city (the cascade, mother Armenia who holds a sword pointing towards Turkey).
The city was clean with functioning toilets and seemed quite well off though the countryside is very poor. In the afternoon we went to the Museum of Armenian Genocide. It was horrific. 1.5 million were killed, mostly from 1917-22. There were pictures, quotes, a garden with trees planted by foreign powers who recognize what happened. Turkey is notably absent. When I talk to Georgians about this they say, “Armenians need to get over it…we are tired of hearing about their pain.” They mock how 95 percent of Armenian dissertations in Social sciences are about the Genocide. It hardly seems like one can have any business criticizing people for remembering such a gaping hell-hole in history. Outside the museum I met the first Norwegian I have seen here. He was from Oslo and had been traveling alone for 5 weeks in Iran—without any problems. He had seen Mt. Ararat from Iran, Turkey and now Armenia. We saw it from Yerevan though it was very cloudy and smoggy.Tiring of the city we continued on our way to Garni, location of a 5th Century Roman temple. Garni had beautiful mountains and we decided to spend the night in the village, with an Armenian family, who gave us supper. I wandered around and saw men herding their cattle, kids playing in abandoned cars, and groups of women sitting on rocks outside their houses, eating Semitchka (sunflower seeds).
The following morning we almost literally stumbled upon a stunning site—sharp and patterned rock formation in the mountains. We swam in lake Sevan on the way home and made it back to Tbilisi by evening time.
posted by Kristel at 2:12 AM
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