My New Village and Family

Everyone was a bit nervous and giddy, myself definitely included, as we loaded up the vans and drove to meet our new host families.

Armenian Countryside

We had learned a little bit about the host family placement process, and knew that our host families were just as excited and nervous to be meeting us. We were told two days prior that the families were probably already shopping and cooking, in preparation for our arrival!

Peace Corps is very thorough in preparing our sites and our families for their new “son” or “daughter.” PC Personnel meet with the mayors and representatives of the villages they chose, and discuss what Peace Corps is, and why the volunteers are coming. Then they advertise that they are looking for host families. This year, each village had around 16 applications. From those applications, they interviewed each family to determine best fit for American volunteers. After the interviews, they chose 8-9 families from each of the five villages, then had another meeting with all the families at once, telling them exactly the kinds of things to expect from having an American in their household.

This included things like:

• Americans generally like their privacy. Just because they like to sit in their room with the door closed, this does not mean they are mad at or dislike the family.
• Americans do not have the same views on gender differences. Men and women both can spend time in the kitchen cooking, and this is not seen as extremely odd.
• Americans generally do not like food to be as salty or greasy as Armenians may be used to.

The more I learned about what they had to tell the Armenians, the more I realized that it’s not just about me. It dawned on me that it would be just as crazy to be on the receiving end of this deal and try to host someone from a different culture… Why did I not realize that before???

During our stay at the hotel, us Americans has similar meetings regarding Armenians, to help prepare us for what we might experience, and minimize our culture shock. PC personnel and veteran A-18ers demonstrated situations such as trying to study and having our families want us to come socialize, eat, and drink late into night; and what to do when having guests, such as other PCVs over.

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When the eight of us arrived in our new village with our language teachers (LCF’s), we unloaded from the van and stood stiffly in a line alongside it like prisoners, staring silently at the villagers gathered around, wondering who was going to claim us. The first of MANY awkward moments!

The mayor came and shook our hands and made a speech in Armenian. One of our LCF’s translated for us when he was done. He welcomed us on behalf of the entire village and thanked us for coming all the way from America to help them out. He hoped we would have a pleasant stay.

After that fine introduction and welcome, our other LCF started reading off names to match us up.

I said hello to my new host mother and then my mind went blank so I simply stood beside her and watched everyone else get paired up. Then we said good-bye to each other and were spirited away from the English language for the long, long, awkward night ahead.

My Village Street

At the house, my “mom” tried talking to me, but all I could do mostly was smile, nod, shake my head or do other things to make it clear I didn’t understand, such as:

• Stare blankly.
• Say, “Chem haskanum,” which means, “I don’t understand.”
• Shrug my shoulders.
• Smile and laugh.
• Try saying the Armenian words I did know, like “water, tea, and American.” (Didn’t make for much of a conversation, as you may well imagine!)

She gave me coffee, orange juice, muffins, and some other cake-like dessert that was a little burnt on the bottom. Not delicious but I ate it to be polite. It was better to fill the silences by pretending I couldn’t talk because my mouth was full.

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I got a tour of the place, and met everyone else in the family. In total, there is a mom, a dad, and 2 young girls — 4 and 5 years old.

Front Courtyard

Let’s see if I can describe the house. We live on the second floor, with a different family below us. Inside is segmented, a main, short, wide hallway, with an “old kitchen at the first door on the right and an empty concrete room that is to be the new kitchen in “10 days or less,” if what they say is to be believed.

The living room/dining room is the door on the left, and my bedroom is the door straight ahead. The other bedroom for the entire family is a door off the living room.

Everything is concrete and looks old and well-used.

The bathroom and shower room is a separate building outside, as well as the pantry/canning/cooking room.

For hot water, you have to turn on the gas and light the water tank. This is not done often. When I need a hot shower, my host mother is going to take care of that for me.

The furniture is old and worn, with stuffing falling out of the almost bare arm rests, but it is covered by furniture blankets. The wallpaper is stained and peeling, and there are chunks of concrete missing from uncovered spots on the wall.

My bedroom has a round table with a lace tablecloth and one chair. My bed is very narrow and also short. It seems especially small, compared to the double bed I’m used to. The windows in my room are extremely old, but I think they open. My view looks out over a roof, then onto the street.

My family has a garden out back. Seems to be subsistence farming.

Our Garden

They also have a barn with chickens and a cow.

Chicken on side the road

Our Cow

Fresh eggs and fresh milk every single day…