I’ve been here nearly three weeks now, in the deep south of Armenia, surrounded by borders and the Armenian language and new acquaintances in this village where I’ll be living for the next two years. The days are flying by, I’m already in the middle of my second week as a volunteer English teacher, and I’m feeling pretty good about my work and what my role is here. I’m getting to “shpvel” the place pretty well, you could say, which is the verb Armenians use for getting acquainted with a place. A friend also pointed out to me that if you look this word up in the dictionary, the literal English translation is apparently “to rub oneself.” So yeah, I'm rubbing around this village right now and enjoying every bit of it.
Here’s a day in the life so far…
Woke up from a solid sleep, had a large cup of coffee, and then made small talk with my host family on the patio before getting ready for work. Before heading out, I blasted Radiohead’s “Bones,” because it was in my head when I woke up, and then headed off down the winding, sloping road to my village school (my village is set on either side of a very steep valley, so walks to and from school are pretty vigorous undertakings).
A delightful activity, which my school calls “morning calisthenics,” takes place every day at 8:45 just before class starts, and so far I’ve taken to the routine pretty fondly. The entire school assembles outside in the courtyard, and then our Phys Ed teacher, Yeghish, leads the teachers and students through a series of awkward body movements that I would describe as some sort of cross between stretches and interpretive dance. There is arm-flailing, clapping, toe-touching, hopping, neck-rolling, squatting, and finally a hilarious exercise in which we all place our hands on our hips and swivel our pelvic areas around shamelessly. My school’s director – a short, stout man who talks in a fast, vigorous manner that reminds me sometimes of barking (although I would never tell him that) – always takes part whole-heartedly in this last exercise, and it always puts a huge grin on my face before first hour starts.
My counterpart and I had the first hour free, and then taught the 6th, 7th, 11th, and 12th grades for the next four consecutive hours. It’s all going well, and I feel like I’m getting more accustomed to and comfortable being “a real teacher” every day. I also noticed my counterpart actually giving attention to some of the slower students today, which was heartening to see, since the strategy I had seen previously up to this point had been more or less letting the smartest kids just own the classroom and get most of the attention while the slower ones get farther behind. We are two teachers in a classroom that is never larger than fourteen students and on average is more like 8 or 9, and so I am very excited about what we can do and how far we might be able to go with the kids with a ratio like that.
During our 12th grade lesson, I gave a presentation on Chicago, described the nuances of a Chicago hot-dog (which they were shockingly not all that interested in), and led them through a text about the city’s history and landmarks. It went fine, especially considering it was sort of an ad-libbed lesson due to the fact that the 12th grade does not actually have English textbooks yet. (Word from other volunteers I’ve talked to is that their 12th grades also do not have English books yet, so perhaps they just don’t exist this year. It’s a possibility). During this lesson, I also tried, unsuccessfully, not to laugh when one of the girls started talking about “Michelle Jordan” instead of “Michael.” My counterpart also at one point got upset enough at the students talking in the back to say, in Armenian, “Do you want me to get angry? I do not want to get angry near Tom; it would be shameful.” Sort of a strange thing to say… This was also only our second day teaching the 12th grade together, so I’m sure it will happen soon enough. Shame will ensue.
The event of the day, and maybe of the week, took place when I got home from school. I was in my room, doing nothing in particular, when my host mother said I should come outside because somebody wanted to meet me. I came outside to meet one of the only people in country so far I’ve come across that was actually taller than me, not that I’m all that incredibly tall, at least in America, but here I’m close to giant status. I shook hands with him and took stock of his military regalia, heavy boots, camo and all, and also his Russianness. We sat down, and he explained that he worked for the Russian military. (The Russian military maintains the border with Iran in Armenia, so there is a fairly large base nearby).
He was not, however, showing up at my doorstep to get a profile on me or find out if I was a spy, at least I don’t think so. Turns out he just wants to learn English. He had heard I was around from one of the teachers at my school, Elvina, who apparently knows him and who showed up with him to introduce us to each other, and he just wanted to see if I could give him some tutoring. With my host family, one of my fellow teachers, and another dude in a camo uniform with him all watching our conversation in broken English, I wasn’t about to turn the guy down. And I actually genuinely would like to help him. Not the first person I’ve met in my first weeks here that has asked me about English lessons, but definitely the most interesting. We’ll see what happens.
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I went for a walk the other day just outside the village and discovered that this place is even more beautiful than I had first thought. I followed an upward climbing trail past the village cemetery and into a path lined by gardens and orchards and a few grape vineyards on the left and right. The trail eventually opened up a little bit more and signs of mankind begin to disappear the farther I went. Right now it’s gorgeous, and I intend to take full advantage of it before the winter comes and I’ll be more or less holed up for several months. This really is a gorgeous place.
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