Let me paint a picture for you.

Driving down the road, past Lake Sevan, the waterfront is lined with small bushes. The bushes are adorned with plastic bags of all colors, blown there by the wind. I go for a walk through my village. Every dumpster I pass is uncovered and has trash spilling out of it. When the garbage men come by, they shovel the trash from the dumpster into the truck, but they rarely focus on picking up the extra stuff that is in the street. An alternative to the garbage men is to burn everything. I often pass by red-hot dumpsters, smoldering the garbage to ash and releasing plumes of black smoke.

Trash is everywhere you look.

On the outskirts of town, the ditches are filled for kilometers with everything you can imagine: juice cartons, shampoo bottles, pipes, shoes, candy wrappers, old clothing, razors, boxes, vodka bottles, soda bottles, water bottles, crates, concrete blocks, coffee containers, rusty cars, and plastic bags. I have never seen so many rogue plastic bags. They are constantly pushing the boundaries of the unofficial side-of-the-road dumps. While driving, all trash goes out the window. It’s also not uncommon to be walking behind someone and see garbage leaving their hand, falling to the ground, adding to the mess already there. Eventually the garbage makes it to the streams, choking them with debris as well. The streets are not clean. The sidewalks are not clean. The fields are not clean. Trash removal is a major problem here, and the garbage everywhere is a real eyesore. We are going to address this during our Border to Border teaching sessions, and try to show that the environment is something that needs to be cared for, not littered on.

Not convinced yet that you should contribute to our Border to Border project?

Tell me that the following doesn’t shock you or make you throw up a little bit in your mouth, and then reach in your pocket and donate a little money to help stop this problem.

Every day I walk into my college, where the students are mostly between 14 and 18 years old. The first thing I smell is cigarette smoke. Passing through the hallway, I see teenage boys standing around, smoking. If class goes on too long, they leave to go smoke. One time a student even lit up during class! Every public marshutni has a driver who is a smoker. He’s smoking as he waits for the marshutni to fill up with passengers. He smokes as he drives. After the trip, he has another cigarette. Taxi drivers are the same way. As soon as you get in and tell them the destination, they light a cigarette. Walk into a restaurant, and you either can’t see through the thick haze of smoke, or you can’t breathe, for the smell. I don’t know of a single non-smoking restaurant in Armenia. Cigarettes are cheap, and all the men smoke, and they pass this habit onto their sons. They smoke in the house, in the streets, in restaurants, and in school, without a clue as to what they’re doing to their lungs and their health. As part of our Border to Border teaching, we are going to demonstrate the damage they are doing to their bodies.

And there are further health issues.

Exercise is not a common activity here. Runners are looked at with confusion. “Going for a walk,” just to get your blood pumping, is unheard of here. A common “lunch” for many Armenian women is coffee, candy, and bakery. A lot of traditional Armenian foods are high in oil, fat, and salt. As you might imagine, there are problems with high cholesterol, high body mass index, and high blood pressure. Volunteers hiking across half the country are bound to get a lot of attention, and we plan to utilize that attention to teach the benefits of exercise and healthy diets. And we are going to be setting an example, by getting plenty of exercise, covering 250+ kilometers.

During Border to Border, we are going to be reaching kids at many schools, teaching them in a fun and interactive way, to get their attention and help them realize how they can make a difference, both in their personal lives and in their communities. We want to make as big of an impact as possible, and in order to do that, we need your help. The money goes towards transportation for site visits to identify the best places to reach the most amount of kids; printed brochures and fliers to list the key points of healthy lifestyles and helping the environment; sports equipment like soccer balls, to encourage exercise; and healthy snacks for the participants of our workshops.

The volunteers who are hiking will mostly be staying with other volunteers along the way, and will pay for their own food, so your money will not go towards helping us sleep comfortably or feeding us like kings. It will be used solely for supplies and materials that will directly affect the kids we are trying to reach.

Please donate to Border to Border this week. There is a simple form on the Peace Corps website that makes it easy to donate online.

More about Border to Border:

Two teams of six volunteers, one from the Iranian border and one from the Georgian (that’s my team) border will walk across Armenia for three weeks until we converge in the country’s central town of Yeghegnadzor.

For these three weeks, we’ll be walking for two very important causes in Armenia: children’s health, and environmental awareness. And these issues we hope to address with a little leading by example, spreading of awareness, and teaching. Each team will stop in 9 to 10 Armenian towns and villages along the way to hold teaching sessions at local schools and cultural centers. Armenians from different organizations such as FYCA (Federation of Youth Clubs in Armenia) and YMCA of Armenia will be teaming up with us along the way as well, teaching with us and even walking with us at times as well.

At the end of the journey, we hope to have taught in upwards of 18 communities, passed through/had contact with countless other villages along the way, hiked nearly 600 kilometers, and given valuable lessons and lasting impressions to a whole lot of children.

Follow us on our blog, as we walk.

Congratulations to my brother and his new wife!

I’m sad to be missing my brother’s wedding today. My entire family will be there, except me. My parents and all 14 brothers and sisters, plus in-laws, nieces, and nephews.

I wish Martin and Ina all the best, as they begin their new life together.

Yesterday, we had six chickens. Today we only have five. No, we didn’t eat the sixth, although that would be the logical conclusion. No, Chicken Little accidentally escaped onto the other side of the fence. I saw her running around yesterday afternoon, trying to figure out how to get back in. I told myself that eventually she would make it back. But, come evening, when I went to close the chickens in the barn, there were only five on the perch.

The five remaining chickens

My host mother wasn’t home yesterday. All I had to do was close the chickens in the barn for the night, and I lost one! I am not knowledgeable in chickens’ homing instincts, and I am not competent in caring for them, so I don’t exactly blame myself for the missing chicken. I honestly thought she would come back on her own. But I do know that if I had taken a little more care in herding the chicken back home, we would still have six. Next time, I will know better. When I see a rogue chicken, I will do what I saw my host mom do once—chase after the chicken, grab it under its wings, tuck it under my arm, and carry it safely home.

This garden work has been going on for a little over a week. The first few days I saw my host mom going into the garden, I wondered if she wanted or needed help. She didn’t ask me to lend a hand, but it looked like a lot of work for one person. I forgave myself for not helping by telling myself I was working on important Peace Corps projects. But I frequently stopped my work and stared at her out the window, wondering if there was anything I could do. Gardening seemed like a  good excuse to be outdoors, enjoying the sunshine and getting exercise. And helping. I felt bad for not helping. But how to broach the subject? For some reason, that was difficult for me, as she made no indication to me that my help would be needed or appreciated.

My host mom did the gardening herself the first few days, until we both realized that I could help.

After a couple days’ solo work, she asked me if I could ask my site mate Kevin (a healthy, strong, willing male) to come help in the garden. When Kevin came and was handed a shovel, I, too, asked for a shovel and instruction, and we both set to work, tilling the soil. At the end of that first day, my host mom told me she was really surprised. “I didn’t think you could do it,” she told me. “But you did a good job.”

What?!? What, exactly, out of shoveling dirt, did she think I wasn’t able to do? I was shocked and a little hurt to hear that. I know nothing about gardening. But I am more than capable of turning over dirt, and I’m very good at taking instruction.

If Kevin can do it, then so can I!

I realized that we had both had a few misconceptions. She needed help, but didn’t think I was physically capable of working a shovel. I wanted to help, but wasn’t sure she would accept my help. If I find myself in this sort of situation again, I will try to be more proactive. I’ll pull on my gardening gloves and go ask what I can do to help.

————

Should I have chased that chicken when I saw it outside the gate? Should I have offered to help when my host mom first told me she was working in the garden? I can think of a hundred similar “should I have…” situations, where I didn’t immediately step in even though I could have.

This is one thing that I’m hoping my Peace Corps experience can help me improve. I may not be that great at figuring out how to approach an issue the first time around, but I’m a fast learner. Once I figure out the situation, and learn what works, I can make the necessary improvements and take more initiative in the future.

So I’ve learned my lesson. If I ever see chickens that I am responsible for, clucking around on the other side of the fence, you can be sure I will bring them back where they belong. As for gardening, I will be helping plant potatoes this weekend. And for the rest… I’m hoping I can extrapolate my lessons learned to situations I haven’t yet encountered and make proactive decisions the first time.

When I first arrived in Armenia, I would have been tempted to holler and wave to the kids down the street.

But smiling and talking to strangers (or even acquaintances) in the street is not that culturally appropriate, so I reigned myself in and walked sedately like everyone else. Sometimes, I just couldn’t help myself, though. A car would drive past and the driver would be looking at me, so I would wave and smile out of pure reflex. Then I would chide myself on my over-friendliness and hope I hadn’t given the driver or his passengers the wrong impression of me.

Peace Corps Armenia is changing the way I relate to people. In the U.S., I used to be a pedestrian who said hi to the people I passed. Comes from growing up in a small town, I think, and walking to school everyday. So my first couple months in country, I cheerfully acknowledged the people I saw. But gradually, my smile and greeting faded to just a greeting, to just a look and a nod, and finally, to nothing at all. I don’t even look at the people in the street anymore. (I would make a horrible detective, at this point, as I do not pay attention to the people at all.) They are not friendly to me, and I am not friendly back. I just pass by, and they stare after me silently, a stranger in their midst, standing out enough, with my blond hair, casual clothing, and dirty shoes, without drawing extra attention to myself by speaking out loud.

———-

Life goes on for Armenians, even when I am around. Couples get married, babies are born, people lose their jobs, get sick, die. This should not be surprising, and it’s not. But it is weird to be a part of it all, to witness it, to express feelings about these life-changing events.

The happy news is easy. “Shnorhavor! Congratulations!” “Urakh em, kez hamar! I am happy for you!” I can’t say everything I want to, but I can say enough and show them with my facial expressions that I share in their happiness.

It's easy to show excitement over happy events, like newborn babies.

Sad news is much harder to deal with. In America, it’s hard enough to express sympathy to someone I know, in a language I’m familiar with. In Armenia, in a foreign language, to people I don’t know that well, I don’t have a clue how to react.

Peace Corps Armenia is changing the way I relate to people, especially in sad news situations. I distinctly remember walking one day with my first host mom, to her sister-in-law’s house. As we walked, she said in Armenian, “Evelyn, I’m going to leave for a couple hours and you’re going to stay with Joseph [another volunteer who lived with her sister-in-law's family] until I get back. Do you know why? Because my mother’s brother died. I’m going to the [she probably said 'funeral' here, although I didn't know the word at the time]. Do you understand? My mother’s brother has died. He’s dead.”

I paused for a minute, as I sorted out the words in my head. I knew the word for “to die” and understood what she told me. My response to the news of the death in her family? “Yes. I understand.” I didn’t know what to say, or how else to react. And we kept walking. I realized later that I hadn’t changed my expression much, hadn’t told her I was sorry, not even in English where at least the tone of voice would have transferred, hadn’t asked if she was okay, hadn’t asked if there was anything I could do, hadn’t even given her a hug. The news didn’t seem to affect me, and I was baffled at my unemotional response, but I have reacted similarly since that time. It’s just not instinctual for me to have feelings in another language.

———-

Who doesn’t love their family and friends? In some ways, they become more important than ever, when you are serving in the Peace Corps. You miss them like crazy. You want to share your experiences with them. You want to hear the mundane “American” things they are doing in the course of a day.

When I lived in the USA, I was pretty good at keeping in touch with my friends and family. In the States, our lives were fairly similar, so it was easy to catch up, even after not talking or seeing each other for quite some time. I would make a point of calling someone I hadn’t talked to in awhile. As I traveled, I would plan my trip through a part of the country where they were living, so I could stop by and visit. When I was back in town after a long time away, I would call my local friends and invite them for coffee or lunch. This was enjoyable for me. I liked to know what everyone was up to, in a more personal way than looking at their Facebook status update, or hearing third-hand from someone else.

It takes a lot to maintain a current relationship with anyone. I would call (or visit, if I was close) someone important in my life at least once a week, if not more frequently. If I didn’t get an answer, I would try again later, but I always made the effort to keep in touch. I realize it was usually me initiating the phone call or the visit, but that never bothered me. I know I was always welcome, and excused my busy friends’ lives with a shrug, realizing it was probably easier for (single, care-free, traveling) me to fit myself into their schedules than wait for them to find time for me.

Life back home is comfortable and easy to relate to.

Upon arriving in Armenia, I tried to maintain a level of connection with people back home. I called. I emailed. I wrote letters. But slowly, that has begun to slip. Not for lack of time, not for being distracted by my life here.

But Peace Corps Armenia is changing the way I relate to people. It’s not as easy to maintain relationships or catch up. It’s not easy for me to get a hold of people. We don’t have a lot in common right now. So I find that I don’t have much desire these days to work at keep in touch. It’s hard to admit that, but I want to be honest here. It’s not that I love my friends and family any less, or think about them any less, or want to sever any connections I’ve made. In fact, if other people tried to keep in touch with me, I would absolutely love it, because then I would be sure they were interested! But I don’t want to expend my energy in the opposite direction, and here’s why:

In Armenia, my life is different. If I haven’t spoken to someone in awhile and then try to have a conversation, I feel like I have to start from the beginning. The conversation is more explanations than a fun, newsy exchange. For example, I might start a good story with, “I was riding the marshutni on my way to Yerevan, when an aghbear got on and sat on the stool by the door.” Then I have to stop and say that a marshutni is a public mini-bus, similar to a very crowded van; Yerevan is the capital of Armenia, and is at least a 2.5 hour ride from my site; an aghbear is a male Armenian with certain typical Armenian qualities, including black pointy shoes; and the stool is not a normal seat, but is placed in the aisles when the marshutni is otherwise too full for a normal seat.

At that point, is it worth continuing the story? It gets too bogged down and isn’t fun anymore. So, instead of having to re-explain myself in excruciating detail every time I talk to a different friend, it’s less stressful to tell myself that if they want to keep in touch with me along this journey, they will. And if not, we’ll re-connect when I get home and we have more in common again.

Where do you even begin to describe what's going on here? Sometimes it just gets a bit overwhelming. (Plus I don't quite understand it myself.)

———-

Government-issued best friends (aka my fellow volunteers in Armenia) are a different story. They can chime in with their own aghbear-on-a-marshutni stories, and throw in a hot sweaty summer day with the windows closed for the entire 3 hour trip, and we can all laugh. We struggle through hearing the difference between the hard “k,” the other “k,” and the hard “g” in the Armenian language. We commiserate on our work stories of the meeting that started late and the cell phones that kept getting answered. We talk about how we were over-paid for utilities and wonder if the money will be taken back.

We can joke about whether or not we're going to wash the carpets in our houses sometime in the next two years. (Answer? Probably not. Cue laughter.)

On a bad day, we cry on each others’ shoulders. On receipt of happy news, we emote in the streets. We make fun of each other’s dirty hair and complain about the time the muraba ran off the stale lavash and stained freshly washed jeans. In other words, through the circumstance of being thrown together in Armenia, we become very close.

I’ve never had a particularly easy time sharing my feelings, emotions, thoughts, secrets, hopes, or fears with other people. I think that’s partly due to my stoic Finnish roots.

Peace Corps Armenia is changing the way I relate to people. The other volunteers I spend time with know much more about me than I used to be comfortable sharing with almost anybody. It’s especially strange for me to realize, because at this point I haven’t known anyone in this country for longer than 11 months. How are they so special as to deserve to learn about the time I went skinny-di….. oh, wait. I’ve never shared that story with anyone!

Just a beautiful scene of a cold rushing mountain waterfall. Nothing more...

It’s really interesting and unique for me to have such close, caring relationships, and is something I would like to retain, out of all the ways Peace Corps Armenia is changing the way I relate to people.

———-

Peace Corps Armenia is changing the way I… This could be answered a lot of different ways, but this entry touches on one that has jumped out at me recently. Did you like this format? Let me know in the comments, and I may answer this question a different way in future entries.

P.S. Thanks for the comments on what you’d like to hear more about in my previous entry. This topic had the most votes at the time of posting, but I will be writing about some of the other ones as well, later on. So stay tuned!

Some days, there are a lot of things I want to tell you about, but can’t seem to pick one topic to focus on. So today, I’m going to throw out a few teasers of what’s going on in my life and in my head, and let YOU tell ME what you want to hear more about.

Tell me: What seems the most interesting to you?

• I don’t know if I’m ready for the next group of volunteers to come because…

• In the last two days, I looked at four different apartments in my town, and am getting ready to move out of my host mom’s house into a place that…

• My birthday was, without a doubt, the…

• Since the end of February, I have been at site for only about 28 days, because…

• It rained yesterday, and the mountains got a fresh coat of snow, but…

• Peace Corps Armenia is changing the way I…

• A few weeks from now, I’m getting three special visitors, and I’m going to make sure I introduce them to…

• The only reason I ever use an alarm clock anymore is…

• I’ve been getting emails from sixth graders at Washington Middle School, asking me some pretty interesting questions. The best (and hardest!) question was…

• I really need your help in accomplishing my goal of…

• “Psychic Night” was an interesting twist to…

• My college wants a new weight room, so they are asking me to…

• I still can’t figure out why we keep potatoes in the…

• Kids in the street always say hello to me in English. They always follow that up with…

• I’m insane because…

• Two of the teachers I work with are going to put on a few workshops dealing with gender equality, domestic violence, trafficking, and other topics, which I think…

• I’ve completely memorized the artist mistakes in my hand-painted ceiling decorations, and I’m pretty sure that…

• When a group of students ran into the classroom being loud and hitting each other, I…

• My bedroom is becoming messy, which means…

• I try not to compare myself to other volunteers, but some of them are so…

So, there you have some of my half-finished thoughts that each, in their own right, could be a complete story, full of insightful observations and funny anecdotes. If any of these cliffhangers sparked your interest, please leave a comment, telling me which one you want to know more about. The one that has the most votes will be the topic of my next blog entry!

(Isn’t this fun?)

We don't have any canned air right now, so we blew the dust out of the inside of the computers with a hair dryer on the cold setting.

The electricity went out, making computer-work impossible. So we took a break to play ping-pong.

Our washer was having problems, so I hand-washed all my laundry out on the front deck.

When we can’t improvise, sometimes we just do without. A short list of things we occasionally have to give up includes:

• Hot water to wash hands, face, and brush teeth
• Gas, water, and electricity from time to time
• Showers
• Food at restaurants
• Paved roads
• Being warm in the winter
• Light bulbs over 25 watts

But, for all the sacrifices volunteers and host country nationals make, there are some things we can’t do here in Armenia without money or without help.

I want to turn your attention to some of the wonderful projects going on in Armenia with the help of Peace Corps volunteers. There are many more than the ones I’m going to mention, but these projects are the ones I’m most proud of and excited about. I’m making a special plea to you to help out with a purchase or donation, if you would like to support what Peace Corps is doing in Armenia.

Girls Leading Our World (GLOW)

is a leadership program for young Armenian women, ages 13-16.

GLOW is a leadership program for young Armenian women, ages 13-16.

The program begins with a summer camp for 50 girls that teaches them about topics such as personal development, gender, career planning, health, HIV/AIDS, peer education, and leadership. After the summer school the girls hold peer education sessions in their communities, contribute to the GLOW newsletters, and help organize regional seminars during the year for other young women.

The reason I think this is such a great program is because women are the future of Armenia. Ironically, at the same time, they are constantly in the shadow of men. Gender equality is not practiced much here. Most high-level positions are held by men, but the vast majority of the workers seem to be women. Most of the teachers at my college are women, and the girls are the ones who consistently come to class, while the boys mostly just goof off. With a little extra push, I think the women will turn this country around.

This camp reaches girls at a young enough age to open their eyes to new possibilities. They are taught to have self-confidence and to trust themselves. They’re encouraged to think for themselves, assert their opinions, think about career and life planning, and become leaders in their communities. They also meet many other girls just like themselves from all over Armenia.

Two of my best friends in Armenia are helping coordinate this project this summer. The community contribution for this project is $13,296.92 (46% of total budget). Carrying this out will cost an additional $15,245.16. If you would like to contribute, click this link. It will take you to the Peace Corps Partnership Grant (PCPP) located on the Peace Corps website, where you can make a donation online. Any amount is greatly appreciated.

Volunteer Coordinator: Maas L. of CT. Project Number: 305-079

Border to Border (B2B)

is a walk across Armenia to increase awareness about children’s health and waste reduction.

Border to Border is a walk across Armenia to increase awareness about children's health and waste reduction.

This summer, two groups of six Peace Corps volunteers will walk the entire length of Armenia, one group leaving from the northern border with Georgia and the other from the southern border with Iran. En-route, the B2B team will conduct 18 one-day interactive seminars for children and community members to teach simple but important lessons such as reducing waste, maintaining a balanced diet, regular exercising, and avoiding cigarettes and alcohol.

I am going to be part of the group walking from the northern border. The reason I’m so excited about this project is because I see that people in Armenia don’t always have accurate information when it comes to healthy lifestyles and the environment. Doing this walk is a radical way to get attention—Armenians generally do not walk or run for exercise and they think it is a strange activity—and teach kids at the same time.

Cardiovascular disease is the leading cause of death in Armenia (54% of total deaths) Cancer is the second largest cause (18% of total deaths). Tobacco consumption is rising rapidly, varying between 64.2% and 69.4% among men in the 24 – 65 years age group. With this walk, we hope to empower and inspire the children of Armenia to take an active role in their own health and the health of their environment.

Obviously, I’m also excited to do some hiking, and get outdoors away from the computer, while still doing volunteer work. You will be able to follow our progress on the Border to Border Blog, starting in mid-June.

The community contribution for this project is $6,748.56 (51% of total budget). Carrying this out will cost an additional $6,471.09. If you would like to contribute, click this link. It will take you to the Peace Corps Partnership Grant (PCPP) located on the Peace Corps website, where you can make a donation online. Any amount is greatly appreciated.

Volunteer Coordinator: Duffy J. of TN. Project Number: 305-083

Berd Bears

are cute hand-made knitted teddy bears made by a group of women in the town of Berd, Armenia.

Berd Bear

The Berd Bear project is one of the activities implemented by the Berd Women’s Resource Center Foundation, and is intended to provide much needed employment for the women of Berd and the surrounding villages. The bears come in four different skin tones, and they wear a variety of knitted outfits.

One my good friends helped get this project off the ground, with the knowledgeable assistance of Timothy Straight, American-born toy-design expert and Consul for Norway and Finland. And now another of my good friends is working with the women, helping them learn about all the details involved in running a profitable and sustainable business. These women have come a really long way and have worked extremely hard to make these bears into what they are today.

By supporting Berd Bears, you are supporting a larger cause: allowing a hardworking woman to receive a fair wage for her traditional craft and thus providing for her family in an otherwise abandoned economy.

To order these Bears, look for them on the Homeland Handicrafts website.

Astghavard Potholders and Oven Mitts

are exactly what you think: potholders and oven mitts.

This is one of the potholders hand-sewn by women in Vardenis, Armenia.

But they are so beautiful! Sewn by the women at the Astghavard Disabled Children’s Center in Vardenis, Armenia, these products are good souvenirs of Armenia. Some show off the beautiful Mount Ararat, and others say “Hamov e,” which means “Delicious” in Armenian.

This is a project that my site mate, Laura, has taken on, and which has gotten off the ground with the help of Tim Straight, who I already mentioned above. The women are now expanding into baby blankets, which have the same pattern as the Ararat potholder.

To order these products, look for them on the Homeland Handicrafts website.

Homeland Handicrafts

is where you can buy the bears, the potholders, and more.

Crocheted Dolls from the Talin Womens Resource Center Foundation

My friend, Brian, has helped the women of Talin get together to start making this series of hand crocheted dolls in traditional Armenian clothing.

Again, Tim has been helping with this, and other projects around Armenia. See his website, his blog, or his facebook page for more details and how to order. Or contact me, and I will put you in touch with him.

There are more Peace Corps Armenia projects listed on the “Donate” tab under the “Peace Corps” link at the top of the page.

So there you have it: a ton of different ways you can show me that you support me, love me, care about me, or otherwise think that what I’m doing in the Peace Corps in Armenia is worthwhile, useful, or super awesome. (Or maybe you just think the potholder is too beautiful to pass up!)

As much as I absolutely love care packages, I ask that for the next two months, you donate that $50 you would have paid on shipping me a box to one of the above-mentioned projects. At this point, there is nothing from the U.S. that I feel like I absolutely need, and it would mean a lot to me if you helped us keep these projects going with a donation.

And… Exciting news! I’m getting visitors from the U.S. in one month!

You don’t have to know what you’re doing. You don’t have to try to envision the end result before you start. You just have to pick a color and start flinging paint. And eventually, a beautiful picture will emerge.

Be persistent. Don’t like the results? Don’t worry. Pick another color and splash that on top.

Sometimes the potential of your masterpiece’s greatness can stop you dead in your tracks, for fear of ruining it. You have to keep going.

Don’t let your insecurities stop you from trying a completely new tactic. Bravely try starting over from scratch.

Oftentimes it has to be ugly before it can become pretty, so persevere through the nagging doubts and questions.

Not everyone will understand your methods, but that’s okay. You will find the results you are looking for by doing it your way.

With enough time and enough trial and error, your masterpiece will emerge, because

Your masterpiece is you. And your paint is figuring out who you are.

I have no idea what I’m doing. Not in the Peace Corps, not in my personal life, not on this blog. A lot of days I feel like I’m blindly throwing paint at the wall, hoping some of it sticks.

I need to try different colors, new techniques. Some of them I can’t stand; they make me shudder with distaste; I do anything I can to cover them up as quickly as possible. Some of them I really like, but can’t figure out how to replicate a second time. Some I just can’t decide upon, so I stick with them for a time while I make up my mind. As I refine my masterpiece, I realize that some of my favorite parts contain paint has been thrown recklessly with wild abandon. But I am exceedingly proud of the sections that have been fixed over and over, to near perfection, through practice, repetition, and hard work.

My masterpiece is not finished yet, but I think I’m getting closer. Today I’ve discovered that my new favorite color is purple. So I’m going to start flinging purple paint and see where that takes me.

How’s your masterpiece shaping up?

This means that I have been in Armenia for almost a year now, and as such, I feel like I have had sufficient time to reflect on how and what I packed to bring here with me. So now, under the “Peace Corps” tab at the top, you can find my Packing List, with a complete inventory of what I took with me from America. If you are going to be an Armenian Peace Corps volunteer, especially in the A-20 group coming in May, or will be going to a similar Peace Corps country, like Ukraine or Georgia, this list may be particularly interesting.

If you are not joining Peace Corps, this list will probably fill an idle curiosity of what a person would pack when they plan on volunteering outside of the U.S. for 27 months.

You have to move your stuff several times during Peace Corps service. This is the taxi carrying mine and Laura's things to our permanent site.

If you’re an A-20 looking for advice, please find our group on Facebook, or send me a message, and I will help you get added to the group. This group will be enormously helpful to you in answering any questions you have.

When I booked my ticket to Portugal, I knew nothing of this great event. It was only through good fortune that I discovered my dates would line up perfectly with a Chocolate Festival, and as someone who loves chocolate, I decided immediately that I had to go, no matter where in Portugal it was being held. Turns out, Obidos is an easy 2 hour bus ride from Lisbon, and is a popular tourist destination, even without the chocolate draw, because it is a beautiful, quaint fortified city with an impressive castle, charming buildings and narrow cobblestone streets, and you can walk along the castle wall surrounding the city, just like the days of yore.

The privileged of Obidos live within the castle walls, but everyone is allowed to walk the wall, which was good enough for me.

In order to sweeten the anticipation, I didn’t go immediately to Obidos that Saturday morning. I started my day at the Thieves’ Market in Lisbon, which is held every Tuesday and Saturday. It’s like hundreds of yard sales all packed close together along a couple hilly streets, wares spread out on blankets and tables, and hanging on building walls, people thronging everywhere, looking, bartering, buying. You can find just about anything, new or used. Old currency, shoes, comics, bags, mirrors, scarves, computer RAM, lamps, door knockers, books, typewriters, bellows, helmets, jewelry, screwdrivers, postcards, cables, phones, barbies, and on and on. I absolutely loved it, and only wish I had need (or room in my luggage) for some of the more eccentric things. Next time…

The Thieves Market has everything you are looking for, if you have the stamina to search through the hundreds of stalls to find it.

When I had seen my fill, I caught the 2 hour bus to Obidos.

Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, everywhere you look! Truffles, ice cream, cake, lollipops, fruit dipped in chocolate, crepes with chocolate filling, hot chocolate, bon bons, chocolate-covered nuts, and chocolate bars of every variety.

Everything can be made out of chocolate!

I let the crowd sweep me down the main street, not sure where to start, there was so much chocolate. I didn’t want to play favorites; I wanted to try it all!

Eventually I reached the main entrance to the festival, and I realized that everything I had just seen was merely an appetizer.

The midieval entrance to the Chocolate Festival

Inside was where the magic was happening. The theme of the festival was Disneyland Paris, as they are celebrating their 20th anniversary this year. So various chocolate artists had sculpted Disney scenes completely out of chocolate. There was Mickey and Minnie, Pirates of the Caribbean, Sleeping Beauty, Finding Nemo, Cars, and more. My sense reeled, as the smell of chocolate in the air was thick, and the sights in front of my eyes were so incredible.

Have you ever seen such a yummy-looking pirate scene?

The decorations inside the festival grounds were tantalizing. There were booths with gingerbread trimming and bakery roofs. And again, there was all manner of chocolate goodies for sale. There was also a kids’ princess castle, with the amazing backdrop of a real castle.

The grounds were deliciously decorated. I just wanted to lick everything!

I liked the contrast between the kids' princess castle and the genuine one.

I walked around, lost in a chocolate haze, made much thicker by the amount of chocolate I decided to consume. It was all totally worth it.

This festival was not geared towards English speakers, so the marketing pamphlets were in Portuguese, making me a little unsure about all the events being offered. But I caught the tail end of a cooking demonstration, watched some chefs prepare chocolate to create a chocolate sailboat, and then sat through an entire demonstration of making a cake doghouse. I wanted to attend an additional smaller event (for an extra fee) that covered cooking with chocolate and included samples, but realized it would probably be pointless to pay for a class I wouldn’t be able to understand. (I’ve mentioned that I don’t speak Portuguese, right?)

So instead, I wandered around, looking at everything there was to see. On the third floor of a building, I discovered a display of Disney cakes that were astounding! Some were over four feet high, all were elaborately decorated, and none of them actually looked like cakes. I’ve seen some of the cake shows on TV, where they have trouble moving a cake from one table to another, and I had to wonder how much of a headache it was for these chefs to transport these cakes up three flights of stairs.

I still find it hard to believe the Lady and the Tramp are made out of cake.

After many hours, I got tired of all the people, and the smell of chocolate was making me a little nauseous, so I wandered the town a little bit.

The main street of Obidos was thronged with people, but the equally picturesque side streets were almost completely empty.

As it neared dinnertime, I started looking for a restaurant, but the high prices turned me off, and I didn’t feel like dining alone in a crowd of people. Instead, I bought some small snack items from a tiny store, and brought them back to my hostel. The friendly owner, an older lady, and her friend who was there for the weekend, invited me to have a fish dinner with them. So I ate my snack as I waited for dinner to be done. As I was snacking, another hostel guest came in, and was also invited to dinner. Another girl showed up as we were setting the table, so she, too, was invited to join us.

Dinner was delicious, and the company was the best I’d had yet. One girl was an exchange student from the U.S., in Portugal for a semester. The other was German, in Portugal on vacation. Our hosts switched often between Portuguese (which the other two girls spoke) and broken English, trying to include us all in the conversation. We stayed up talking for several hours, sharing life stories.

In the morning, after a delicious breakfast that included rich hot chocolate, the three of us girls went for a walk along the castle wall in the March sunshine. Then I had to catch the bus back to Lisbon for my very last full day in Portugal.

My new friends and I on the wall, the morning before I left Obidos

—————

Back in Lisbon, I caught the tram to Belém. I ate the famous egg tart pastry called “pastel de nata,” from the famous Casa Pastéis de Belém, the so-called inventor of the dessert. It was delicious. I bought another one for the road.

The elaborate outside of the Jeronimos Monastery in Belém, Portugal

Then I went for a walk along the waterfront, trying to savor the moment, to take back with me to land-locked Armenia.

I almost felt like I was back in California when I saw the 25th of April Bridge in Lisbon

Eventually, I took an interesting tram ride back to Lisbon and my hostel, took in a memorable sunset one final time at the place I had spent my first evening, took a final excursion around Lisbon, and rued the fact that I already had to return to Armenia the next morning. The only thing that cheered me up was knowing that there will certainly be more trips to Portugal in my future.

Note: This is the last in a four-part series about my trip to Portugal from Armenia.
Part 1: Armenia to Portugal… Was it all a Dream?
Part 2: Lisboa by Myself
Part 3: The Stunning Beauty of Sintra, Portugal
Part 4: Who Can Resist a Chocolate Festival?

Sintra is beautiful. That is one reason people like to go there.

The German couple must have decided I seemed friendly enough, because they invited me to take the drive to Sintra with them, which offer I gladly accepted, thinking that they seemed friendly enough. And along the way, they invited me to come with them to whatever sights they saw that day, as they had a car and it would be easier to get around in the car than by public bus, which was my original plan. Again, I gladly accepted. It was fun to be sharing stories and hanging out with other people, and I relished the idea of sight-seeing with company, so I would have someone to exclaim to, when I saw something really cool. I would also have someone to take my picture!

One of the many towers I climbed, via internal spiral staircases

We took an incredible tour through the grounds and buildings of the Palacio e Quinta da Regaleira.

My first view of the elaborate, ornate Palacio e Quinta da Regaleira

It was so ornate and awe-inspiring, I can’t even begin to describe my wonder at every single thing I saw.

The entrance to the grounds of Palacio e Quinta da Regaleira

The grounds were lush and green and laced with many dirt paths going every which way; around every corner there was a fountain or a tower or a grotto or a cave. I could have explored for hours and hours. My new friends took the map out at every turn, wanting to make sure they knew where they were. I wanted to throw my map away and discover everything anew. But giving up that desire in place of having company was worth it.

The grotto that is a spiral staircase several stories high, with an open center

My two new friends at the grotto that came out in three different areas of the Palace grounds

The amount of detail and planning and painstaking work that went into crafting this place was beyond words. For several hours we wandered the grounds and inside the chapel and palace, our mouths agape.

Who wouldn't want such a huge fancy door knocker?

I was sorely, utterly, disappointed when I had to use the public restrooms and found that they were slapped on as an afterthought. Boring. Drab. Dirty. Plain. Granted, the palace used to be a residence, not a museum piece. But I think the mark of a really fine establishment—restaurant, museum, or what-have-you—is how much care and thought they put into making the public bathrooms match the rest of the place. I think the guy who designed the palace in the first place would have been sorely disappointed as well. The Palacio e Quinta da Regaleira scored the worst marks in that category. Everything else, though, was absolutely amazing.

That evening, I dined alone, as my new friends had to get going, and I was staying in Sintra. The cafe I found was incredibly new-agey, healthy, and delicious. Gluten-free, vegan, all-natural, and organic.

I didn't eat in this room, but this was one of the rooms at the restaurant where I dined. It seemed more suited for meditation than anything else.

They served the “meal of the day,” which suited me fine, as I didn’t really feel like deciding what I wanted to eat. My juice had banana, apple, ginger, and probably 5 other ingredients in it. I ate pumpkin carrot soup. Pureed lentils, steamed greans, a salad with “special sauce,” a slice of apple pie, and more. The only other people in the restaurant were a man and woman who looked like they belonged there, with loose, flowy clothing, a scarf in her hair, and an air of calm and serenity about everything that they did. I spoke to them a bit and found out they were staying at my hostel. (Indeed, the next morning, the man was doing something yoga-ish on the back lawn.) She said she was “extremely vegan” and it had been hard on this trip (they were from the Netherlands) to find a good place to eat. They advised I check out the bathroom because it was “really cool.”

I did, and it was. It matched the establishment!!! There was a bathtub overflowing with green plants and white rock patterns. The floors and ceilings were painted with colorful splatters of red and blue paint, like someone went in there and just flung their brush every which way. (How fun!) The toilet was the kind with a tank way overhead and a chain to pull, to flush. There were candles and rocks near the toilet, and it smelled amazing in there.

It rained while I was at the restaurant, so I read my book for about an hour after I was done eating. I tried to leave once, and asked for my bill, but the waiter told me to wait it out, because he thought the rain might stop.

Decorations over the wood fireplace at the restaurant

So I picked my book back up and read for awhile longer, until, indeed, the rain lessened.

——————

The next morning, I took a bus to Cabo da Roca, the most western point of mainland Europe. It was my first glimpse of the ocean since I left San Diego last April. I was so enamored with it that I took a 10-minute video of the waves crashing on the rocks below. Then I realized that what I really wanted was to walk in the water in my bare feet. So instead of hanging out, savoring the view and the sunshine right where I was, I got a map and directions from the visitor’s center, and started a hike north up the shore.

Cabo da Roca, the most western point of Mainland Europe

The trail was amazing (The GR 11, with red and white blazes, starting right after Ursa (coming from the visitor’s center) for those who need to know) and I walked it all morning and into the afternoon along the coast. It first brought me away from the water and through some rolling hills, then deposited me near Praia da Adraga Beach. I left the trail, to do my heart’s desire: walk in the water in my bare feet, then sit on the sand and munch on crackers and watch the waves.

Praia da Adraga Beach, from sea level

Then I got back on the trail and hiked the cliff overlooking the beach, which offered its own fantastic views.

Praia da Adraga Beach from above

A stunning view of the upcoming towns I would be walking to

Eventually, I reached towns and civilization, and caught a bus back to Sintra, fully satiated with the beautiful day and all that I had seen and done.

Anyone want ocean-front property? This one looks vacant!

Next up: Back to Lisbon to experience the Saturday “Thieves Market,” then to Obidos and the International Chocolate Festival!

Note: This is the third in a four-part series about my trip to Portugal from Armenia.
Part 1: Armenia to Portugal… Was it all a Dream?
Part 2: Lisboa by Myself
Part 3: The Stunning Beauty of Sintra, Portugal
Part 4: Who Can Resist a Chocolate Festival?