It's good to be back home.
It felt like we were away for ages, though it was my shortest annual trip of the past four years.
Mid January, we had a week vacation in Jordan. The daytime weather in Yerevan varied from minus two to plus two and in Amman was sunny, plus twelve and over. I had a series of first time experiences; like seeing Petra, Akaba, Jorash, Dead Sea, Jordanian food, a camel ride (advertised by young yelling boys as "taxi-taxi, air-conditioned").
Interesting things occurred before and during the trip. We had to fly from Yerevan to Alepo, and then to Damascus, followed by a taxi ride to Jordan. There was a delay of three hours in Zvartnotz airport, we went thru the regular channels of security, passing thru the door that detects metals and much more, and the belt that was suspicious of Nigol's sunglasses and camera placed in the pocket of his jacket (not interesting), then we were driven to the Syrian airplane, stood in line, showed fingers to identify our luggage piled in front of the plane. Upon entering it a security officer hand searched purses and other parcels and only then we took our seats. All countries are taking security measures very seriously, some more than the others. Five days later I was looking for my hand lotion in the same purse and found my pocketknife in it. Hmm.
Three days ago, coming back from TO the security officer went thru our carry on, twice. This might sound funny, or not, but we had a bottle of balsamic vinegar, candles, small bottles of paint and jell-vaseline. He took ten good minutes and let us go. Later, we recalled seeing a movie where a bomb was made using similar ingredients.
Back to Jordan, there are so many beggars, young women and kids in the streets. In Petra these kids spoke English, picked up stones and tried to sell them to tourists. They are beggars everywhere, in the streets of Toronto, Montreal (where some freeze to death), and Jordan. When it comes to Armenia it bothers us a lot. We cannot reconcile ourselves to the fact. A detour to past October, an experience with an Armenian woman beggar in front of Hin Yerevan. My sister, brother-in-law and I were jugging in the streets. As a general rule I try not to give to beggars, believe in helping thru organizations. The young woman came after us, I made the mistake of saying something like "you should be ashamed of yourself". Big Mistake. She followed us for four blocks, told us stories about her husband abandoning her and being in Moscow, about a sick kid with failed kidneys in the hospital, doctors refusing further treatments for lack of payment, about her three other kids left alone in Vana Dzor, gave me name and address. She had a drug prescription in her bag and papers from the doctor. She wore me down, I believed her story, took her to the pharmacy, purchased one of the drugs, the pharmacist did not have the other medication. Gave her fifteen thousand drams for buying the medicine, for treatment, for spending time with her sick kid. Next evening my sister came back and said, guess who we met in the street?
What I learnt from these experiences? That camels eat their own shit and they stink, that one week is too short for vacationing in Jordan, that security measures might not be too secure, that begging might start from poverty but turns into profession, that seeing Jordanian historical sites, cities, temples, caves is a humbling experience (Megha, megha to Garni and Geghart), that Armenians are planning to build centers/Armenian clubs in Jordan with four pools for four thousand Armenians, a prelacy in Montreal and a high school costing six million Canadian dollar in Toronto, that some fled Arab countries to stay Armenian and flee Islam only to marry muslims and non Armenians in Canada and America, and that eight weeks is too long for staying away from Armenia, for me.
It felt like we were away for ages, though it was my shortest annual trip of the past four years.
Mid January, we had a week vacation in Jordan. The daytime weather in Yerevan varied from minus two to plus two and in Amman was sunny, plus twelve and over. I had a series of first time experiences; like seeing Petra, Akaba, Jorash, Dead Sea, Jordanian food, a camel ride (advertised by young yelling boys as "taxi-taxi, air-conditioned").
Interesting things occurred before and during the trip. We had to fly from Yerevan to Alepo, and then to Damascus, followed by a taxi ride to Jordan. There was a delay of three hours in Zvartnotz airport, we went thru the regular channels of security, passing thru the door that detects metals and much more, and the belt that was suspicious of Nigol's sunglasses and camera placed in the pocket of his jacket (not interesting), then we were driven to the Syrian airplane, stood in line, showed fingers to identify our luggage piled in front of the plane. Upon entering it a security officer hand searched purses and other parcels and only then we took our seats. All countries are taking security measures very seriously, some more than the others. Five days later I was looking for my hand lotion in the same purse and found my pocketknife in it. Hmm.
Three days ago, coming back from TO the security officer went thru our carry on, twice. This might sound funny, or not, but we had a bottle of balsamic vinegar, candles, small bottles of paint and jell-vaseline. He took ten good minutes and let us go. Later, we recalled seeing a movie where a bomb was made using similar ingredients.
Back to Jordan, there are so many beggars, young women and kids in the streets. In Petra these kids spoke English, picked up stones and tried to sell them to tourists. They are beggars everywhere, in the streets of Toronto, Montreal (where some freeze to death), and Jordan. When it comes to Armenia it bothers us a lot. We cannot reconcile ourselves to the fact. A detour to past October, an experience with an Armenian woman beggar in front of Hin Yerevan. My sister, brother-in-law and I were jugging in the streets. As a general rule I try not to give to beggars, believe in helping thru organizations. The young woman came after us, I made the mistake of saying something like "you should be ashamed of yourself". Big Mistake. She followed us for four blocks, told us stories about her husband abandoning her and being in Moscow, about a sick kid with failed kidneys in the hospital, doctors refusing further treatments for lack of payment, about her three other kids left alone in Vana Dzor, gave me name and address. She had a drug prescription in her bag and papers from the doctor. She wore me down, I believed her story, took her to the pharmacy, purchased one of the drugs, the pharmacist did not have the other medication. Gave her fifteen thousand drams for buying the medicine, for treatment, for spending time with her sick kid. Next evening my sister came back and said, guess who we met in the street?
What I learnt from these experiences? That camels eat their own shit and they stink, that one week is too short for vacationing in Jordan, that security measures might not be too secure, that begging might start from poverty but turns into profession, that seeing Jordanian historical sites, cities, temples, caves is a humbling experience (Megha, megha to Garni and Geghart), that Armenians are planning to build centers/Armenian clubs in Jordan with four pools for four thousand Armenians, a prelacy in Montreal and a high school costing six million Canadian dollar in Toronto, that some fled Arab countries to stay Armenian and flee Islam only to marry muslims and non Armenians in Canada and America, and that eight weeks is too long for staying away from Armenia, for me.
posted by Nigol at 7:30 AM
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