Cold mountain perspective

I liken the experience in Armenia to that of being on top of a freezing cold mountain unprepared.  If you're focusing on the discomfort, such as the cold wind bearing down on you, the ice at your feet, the lack of long-johns, or the gloves you wish you had, you're missing the view.  Armenia has a lot of things to offer, as long as you're willing to give it the attention it deserves.  In the mountain analogy, it would be like starting a fire, and then sitting back to really take in the rugged and beautiful terrain. 

The extent to which literacy is tied to Armenian identity is quite striking.  It's one thing to read about the history of Armenian people and recognize that the Armenian alphabet was created specifically in the 5th century to allow for all the possible phonetic sounds in the language, but another thing to actually witness the sense of identity that this establishes.  Most Armenians have extensive libraries of books in their own home.  In fact, there are even panhandlers on the street selling books like it's crack.  There's also a sense of historic and contemporary exclusiveness when such a small group of people around the world are dialed into that specific language.  It's almost like the smaller and older an ethno-linguistic group, the greater the exclusivity of the culture.  When your language is so closely tied to your identity, it gives you a somewhat inflated sense of perspective as well.  You do feel a uniqueness that is rare in the world.  I suppose it stems from a sense of pride, knowing that through all the tragic events that have occurred in Armenia's past, the language has survived for over 3000 years.  Not only has it survived, but with the creation of an alphabet, it has become institutionalized for over 1600 years. 

Another noticeable element to Armenian culture is the tendency to categorize things into stricter orders than one may find in the American experience.  Taking age as an example, young children are rarely treated as though they have any say in their lives and experience.  They are children, and because of that categorical label, they have no right to ask for things and expect to obtain them.  A spoiled child is frowned upon and the parents of that child are often looked at as incompetent.  In the American experience, self esteem is stressed over behavior.  Basically, a child should learn to know their place and never expect to be treated as though they were in charge of their lives.  Similarly, when it comes to the elderly, they're often marginalized to an extent, because they're considered past their prime.  They obviously have their uses, but should not expect to be treated as though they were 30 years old.  Yet, even with these stricter categorization tendencies, families are extremely close.  Many generations live within the same household, and the bond that one finds within their own family extends to those of close friends and relatives.  People here absolutely love children, but, rarely do you find a spoiled child.  A precocious child who sings and dances brings a smile to everybody.  You will not find a single person who seems unamused, or annoyed by the presence of this child.  Also, in the Armenian language, there are so many familial terms, it's hard keeping up.  There's a specific term for a mother-in-law that's the wife's mother (zokanch), and another for the husband's mother (kesur).  Further, there's specific terms for an uncle from the father's side, and that from the mother's.  This richness in descriptive terms may also be a result of the colorful quality of the language itself.  Generally, I've noticed that a paragraph in English translated to Armenian takes a great deal more space.  Verbosity is definitely a significant element of the Armenian language.  Structurally, it's quite easy to string word roots together to become descriptively more specific.  Thus, polysyllabic words are commonly encountered linguistic phenomena.

Pets in Armenia are viewed quite differently as well.  Due to the ubiquity of street dogs, people don't view dogs as the domestic companion that North Americans tend to associate with.  Since most dogs people encounter are strays that roam in packs, their mental picture of a dog is a scroungy mutt eating garbage off the side of the street.  Some people are downright mean to these dogs, kicking and spitting at them.  Due to my regional biases, when I see these dogs, I'm impressed by their survivability.  There truly is a Darwinian element to their existence.  Some of these dogs have evolved impressive skills of navigating through traffic, even the speeds with which it flows here in Yerevan.  Because it's winter here, these dogs have further adapted to the elements, and those that are often seen tend to grow thick coats of fur.  Those that do have dogs as pets can be categorized (allow me to be Armenian here) into two main groups.  You have the dog owners who want to show their power, so they walk muzzled German shepherds that are twice the size of the ones in the US.  These owners also tend to favor other large alert-looking breeds.  Your second main dog owner tends to favor the smaller, hyperactive dogs that look well maintained, indicating to other people that you finally caved in to the pleating and constant begging of your wife and children.

The cultural life is so rich in Yerevan, it's hard to take two steps without noticing some element of it.  From the statues that endlessly dominate the landscape, to the countless museums, the opera, the theatres, music clubs, and even the street musicians, this is a country that doesn't shy away from it's cultural roots.  It's also a cosmopolitan mix of cultural elements that give Yerevan an internationally variable flavor.  Armenia truly is a near-chaotic mix of global elements.  In addition to intrinsic cultural modalities, there's a sieve like openness to adopting various elements from extrinsic sources.  It's interesting to note what becomes adopted and diffused into contemporary Yerevan, and what is discarded.  The automobile alone is a conspicuous microcosm of cultural chaos in Yerevan.  In addition to the Russian-made models of vehicles that are a product of Soviet times, there are also European, American, as well as Japanese and Korean models.  Some of the German vehicles are so new, they haven't even seen the light of day in outlying areas of Germany itself.  With all these disparate choices of cars, people tend to drive them as fast as possible as the car's top speed dictates.  With cars from so many regions, the license plates have to be variable as well.  Anything from the squarer American type plates to the more rectangular European and Japanese plates.  Through all these speeding cars, there are microbuses and taxis navigating as though they're on an obstacle course.  One does wonder how a country with 70% of the population struggling to make ends meet can be home to so many powerful cars.  Those who have the goods, whether legitimately or not, know how to flash it.  They don't shy away from humility when it comes to indicating to those around you that your bank account is bigger than the Sultan of Brunei's.

One can't speak of global culturally influenced diversity without mentioning food.  There is nearly nothing that's unobtainable in Yerevan today.  Restaurants cater to every mouth-water appetite.  Yet, just as in other parts of the world, there are certain things that will seem oddly placed.  You can go to a Mexican restaurant here and find pickled celery...quite the head scratcher.  If you find yourself in an American-style pizza place, there will be yogurt.   There's also a KFC restaurant (HQ in Russia), which offers an interesting combo meal.  You can buy some KFC chicken, with shish kebab, and soda (probably Coke or Fanta choices).