Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 7:38 pm January 21, 2012
Because if you do, please tell me. To this day, Hay Post, the “official national postal operator of the Republic of Armenia,” remains a big mystery. Sometimes I get my mail from Canada, sometimes I don’t (though it always seems the mail I send to Canada is received). And don’t ask me why.
Earlier this month, I went to the post office just to check if the two cards I’m expecting from friends in Canada (good thing they told me they sent me mail!) had arrived. Both friends had sent their cards in December and two weeks had passed. Alas, no mail, but the woman behind the counter asked me to leave my phone number so that they could call me when they get my mail. (For those not in the know, in Armenia we don’t actually have mailboxes outside our homes so any mail you get is delivered to your nearest post office.)
So I began to give her my mobile phone number only to be interrupted and asked for my landline number at home. Now, call me unreasonable, but if I’m at work all day and out of the house (and it should be said answering machines are also not widespread in the country), how am I supposed to get her call? If she’s going to go to the trouble to call me, wouldn’t it be better if I give her my mobile number instead? But I assume she was calling from the post office’s own landline number and, as we all know, calls to mobile phones are more expensive than those to landlines (and sometimes offices will block this option). So a landline number it is — or no call at all.
It was no surprise at all then that the next time I walked into the post office, she told me she tried to call but there was no answer. So how did I know I had mail? By the other system of informing residents: a piece of paper stuck not to my apartment door but to the front door of the building — a single standard form addressed to me AND my neighbor to come pick up our mail. Luckily the wind didn’t blow that piece of paper (then two people wouldn’t have known they had mail) and I did the good neighborly thing of bringing it in and up to my neighbor’s flat to let her know she too had mail waiting for her at the post office.
The next day, I walk into the post office and by now the woman (it always seems to be a woman and always one person who’s assigned to your apartment, eh?) recognized me and immediately went to the back to get my card. She then asked me while I’m at it couldn’t I possibly give my neighbor’s letter to her too? What?! Isn’t this a criminal offense? Perhaps it’s not an offense to have someone else’s mail in your possession, but what if I opened it? That’s a crime, right? Needless to say, Post Office Woman didn’t bat an eye.
And though she knew who I was and which apartment I lived in, we don’t really know each other that well (contrary to the way this story is being told, I don’t go into the post office that often) and I figured she’d have to check my ID (passport, check). But no. So she not only didn’t check that I am who I am and live at the address for which I’m picking up mail, but also gave me my neighbor’s mail to pass on to her.
Oh, and at the end of the work day when I returned to the apartment and finally delivered my neighbor’s mail to her, didn’t she tell me what I feared — that she went to the post office that day to pick up her mail and was told I had picked it for her instead. Sheesh.
As for mail that goes missing (remember I’m still waiting for a card!), when I inquired how this might happen, the lovely Hay Post staff informed me that mail (just like airlines, it seems) doesn’t arrive direct to Armenia but goes to a processing center in Russia first — at least mail coming from North America does. And anything that goes wrong of course isn’t Hay Post’s fault, but that of Russian postal services. How could I argue with that?
Whether it’s the fault of Russian Post or Hay Post (or even Canada Post), it goes without saying that the more drop-off points mail has, the more the margin of error increases. Error would be less likely if mail sent from Canada was received directly by Hay Post. Anyone know why this isn’t the case?
At the end of the day, I have to say it’s still a thrill to receive snail mail from friends and family abroad, and in Armenia, it’s all the more special, because I know that it was just as likely I might never have received it…
(And in case you thought postal service woes were limited to Armenia, I recommend you read this lovely rant about the inefficiency of France’s La Poste by fellow blogger Sion Dayson — I remember reading it at the time and thinking, so it’s not just me? *sigh*)
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 2:51 pm January 7, 2012
First, apologies to my readers. I just noticed that it’s been nearly 2 months since my last blog post. To say I’ve been busy is an understatement — but even so and since this is a new year, I want to endeavour to post more frequently on this blog. I’m not sure if it’s a good sign to start off the year’s first blog post with an apology, but I do hope you’ll forgive me.
Though this is not the first time I spent New Year’s Eve in Armenia, it is the first time I did so after I made the move to live here. So this year was particularly special, and recognizing this, I decided to do something special for my family in Armenia: make up lovely baskets of sweets, alcohol, cheeses, crackers and so on wrapped in cellophane — you know, something fairly common in North America to give to friends, family, work colleagues, clients and so on over the holidays.
So imagine my surprise when I found out that such baskets are normally reserved for weddings, engagements, and other such lavish affairs. I mean, no one simply shows up at someone’s house with a basket of goodies unless it’s a special occasion (and apparently, New Year’s and Christmas don’t count). And so it was that I showed up at my aunt’s house and then my other aunt’s house (both families on my mom’s side) and then the home of my family on my dad’s side bearing a basket with goodies wrapped up in cellophane and a big festive bow (see example of one such basket below).
On two occasions, I was told I shouldn’t have spent so much money (note to self: lavish items such as a bottle of Ani Ararat brandy and a package of Brie may not be appreciated when your family is trying to figure out how to make their money last till the end of the month) and on one occasion, the 5-year-old son in the family opened the package and dug into the Toblerone before anyone could blink an eye.
Apparently, I still have a lot to learn.
Though I have to say, the icing on the cake (which brings a smile to my face every time I think of it) is when I went to my partner’s dacha to spend NYE with her family bearing a similar such basket. Well, you can already imagine their surprise — but, this time (knowing about our relationship), they joked how I was the fiancé coming to take their daughter away (in Armenian: եկել եմ աղջիկ ուզելու)! Of course it didn’t help that a couple of days later, I left to return to Yerevan — taking their daughter with me
At the end of the day though I think my baskets brought a smile to the faces of my family members and “in-laws” (!) as they were unexpected gifts and not something usually a part of these holidays — kind of like me
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 11:50 pm November 15, 2011
I should listen to my friend Artur Papyan (aka Ditord) more often — or at least follow his example.
Not only because of a recent unprecedented lawsuit against a local Armenian newspaper for libellous comments left by readers (!) on the online version of its website, but also because of an increase in the number of offensive comments left on this blog, I regret but I have chosen to moderate all comments, and, following in the footsteps of said Artur Papyan, am including the following disclaimer:
This is a personal blog and as such the views expressed on this blog are mine alone. Feel free to challenge me or disagree with me in the comments section of each blog entry, but I reserve the right to delete any comment for any reason whatsoever (most notably if I consider it to be abusive, profane, rude, derogatory and/or not contributing to the conversation) — so keep it polite, please.
While I have taken care to be as accurate as possible (including links), please note that I am only human (and humans make mistakes). Also, it is possible that information which was accurate at the time of posting is since no longer true. You are welcome to correct any inaccuracies in the comments section of each blog entry. For the most part, posts are intended to give you a snapshot of my life at the time of writing, but my thoughts and opinions may change and what I wrote a year ago may not be true today.
I promise my best not to knowingly offend, defame, insult or humiliate anyone or any party directly or indirectly. If an individual or party feels I have published information that is insulting or harmful to them, please contact me directly via Twitter.
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 2:27 am November 14, 2011
Today was Sunday, and one of the few Sundays in a long time where I allowed myself to stay in, read, lounge and otherwise take it easy.
I recently purchased the little 64-page booklet that contains the Constitution of the Republic of Armenia (yes, I know you can read it online AND even get an English-translated version, but I wanted to hold the stapled pieces of paper in my hands and read the original Armenian).
And I found a few rather interesting tidbits: For example, did you know that prisoners can’t vote or be elected (Article 30)? Perhaps I can understand why they can’t be elected, but why can’t they vote?
Also:
“Adult capable persons are obliged to take care of their parents who are incapacitated and in need of such care” (Article 36). Note the word obliged. Adult children have an obligation to take care of their parents.
The vaguness of Article 8: “The church shall be separate from the state in the Republic of Armenia” and yet “The Republic of Armenia recognizes the exclusive historical mission of the Armenian Apostolic Holy Church as a national church, in the spiritual life, development of the national culture and preservation of the national identity of the people of Armenia.” No comment.
Some parts were just too funny (or too sad, depending on how you look at it):
Article 27: “The state shall guarantee the existence and activities of an independent and public radio and television service offering a variety of informational, cultural and entertaining programs.” Independent? A “variety of informational, cultural and entertaining programs”? I guess I just have different definitions of “independent” and “variety” (and I haven’t even touched upon the other aspects of Article 27 which “guarantees” freedom of expression).
Article 32: “Everyone shall have the right to fair remuneration in the amount no less than the minimum set by the law, as well as the right to working conditions in compliance with the safety and hygiene requirements.” Ha!
Article 33: “Abuse of monopoly or dominant position in the market and bad-faith competition shall be prohibited.” Can we say monopoly on sugar, anyone? (And that’s just one example.)
Article 45: “Everyone shall be obliged to pay taxes, duties and other compulsory fees in conformity with the procedure prescribed by the law.” Again I say ha!
However, in all of this, what really stood out for me was Article 35: “The family is the natural and fundamental cell of the society.” Note, the family — not the individual, the family. (Also connected to this point: Article 48: “The basic tasks of the state in the economic, social and cultural spheres are to protect and patronage the family, the motherhood and the childhood.” Italics mine.)
I confess, this explained a lot.
And this was only Chapter 2! I confess, I haven’t read the entire Constitution yet, but after Chapter 2 (“Fundamental Human and Civil Rights and Freedoms”), I needed a break.
So I decided to do a little baking of my own.
And here’s what I came up with: oatmeal cookies with walnuts and mixed dried fruit (apricots, cherries, apples — all local, and all prepared by my partner’s mom). Delicious!
P.S. Confession: I didn’t bake them on my own. It was a team effort
Today was Sunday, and one of the few Sundays in a long time where I allowed myself to stay in, read, lounge and otherwise take it easy.
I recently purchased the little 64-page booklet that contains the Constitution of the Republic of Armenia (yes, I know you can read it online AND even get an English-translated version, but I wanted to hold the stapled pieces of paper in my hands and read the original Armenian).
And I found a few rather interesting tidbits: For example, did you know that prisoners can’t vote or be elected (Article 30)? Perhaps I can understand why they can’t be elected, but why can’t they vote?
Also:
“Adult capable persons are obliged to take care of their parents who are incapacitated and in need of such care” (Article 36). Note the word obliged. Adult children have an obligation to take care of their parents.
The vaguness of Article 8: “The church shall be separate from the state in the Republic of Armenia” and yet “The Republic of Armenia recognizes the exclusive historical mission of the Armenian Apostolic Holy Church as a national church, in the spiritual life, development of the national culture and preservation of the national identity of the people of Armenia.” No comment.
Some parts were just too funny (or too sad, depending on how you look at it):
Article 27: “The state shall guarantee the existence and activities of an independent and public radio and television service offering a variety of informational, cultural and entertaining programs.” Independent? A “variety of informational, cultural and entertaining programs”? I guess I just have different definitions of “independent” and “variety” (and I haven’t even touched upon the other aspects of Article 27 which “guarantees” freedom of expression).
Article 32: “Everyone shall have the right to fair remuneration in the amount no less than the minimum set by the law, as well as the right to working conditions in compliance with the safety and hygiene requirements.” Ha!
Article 33: “Abuse of monopoly or dominant position in the market and bad-faith competition shall be prohibited.” Can we say monopoly on sugar, anyone? (And that’s just one example.)
Article 45: “Everyone shall be obliged to pay taxes, duties and other compulsory fees in conformity with the procedure prescribed by the law.” Again I say ha!
However, in all of this, what really stood out for me was Article 35: “The family is the natural and fundamental cell of the society.” Note, the family — not the individual, the family. (Also connected to this point: Article 48: “The basic tasks of the state in the economic, social and cultural spheres are to protect and patronage the family, the motherhood and the childhood.” Italics mine.)
I confess, this explained a lot.
And this was only Chapter 2! I confess, I haven’t read the entire Constitution yet, but after Chapter 2 (“Fundamental Human and Civil Rights and Freedoms”), I needed a break.
So I decided to do a little baking of my own.
And here’s what I came up with: oatmeal cookies with walnuts and mixed dried fruit (apricots, cherries, apples — all local, and all prepared by my partner’s mom). Delicious!
P.S. Confession: I didn’t bake them on my own. It was a team effort
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 4:47 am November 10, 2011
An exchange on Facebook and finding this blog by repats inspired me to write a list of reasons why I’m happy to be where I am at the moment and why I am enjoying my life in Yerevan, Armenia. Here’s the list (in no particular order):
Living in a small city means I’m not stuck in a two-hour commute to and from work every day. It takes me 10 minutes to ride my bike or 20 minutes by foot to get to work from my home.
Bread (baked fresh! Every day!) costs 100 drams (less than 30 cents!) and though produce (and just about everything else) gets more and more expensive each year, I can still buy fresh, local produce for a few dollars a kilo. Highlights this summer included cucumbers at 100 drams/kg and tomatoes at 200 drams/kg (less than 60 cents!).
The people I meet. I regularly meet amazing locals, repats and expats — all of whom are doing amazing things and, more importantly, are passionate about what they do. Their passion inspires me.
Going out on a weeknight. In Toronto, if I were to ask friends to go out to a bar or cafe on a weeknight, most likely I’d get the response “It’s late” or “I’m too tired” or “I have work tomorrow.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard such responses in Yerevan. Sure, it doesn’t mean that every time I ask a friend to go out she or he agrees. But the fact that it’s a weeknight has never been an issue.
Not that I’m looking to leave, but if I wanted to take a short trip, Yerevan is only a six-hour drive from Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia. I couldn’t help but compare this with the six-hour (less if you’re speeding) trip between Toronto and Montreal. That is to say, the same distance between these two cities in Canada (dotted by the same landscape) allows me to visit a different country and experience more of a varied landscape here.
I have the personal cell phone number of the electrician in my building. He knows me by name (and “You’re the cyclist, right?”) and I can call him anytime if I have a problem. I have heard of others who have the personal cell phone numbers of their doctors, teachers, what-have-you. This is unheard of in Canada.
No matter where I am in this country if I come across a group of people sharing food and/or drink, I am inevitably invited to join them. And it’s not just me. People share their food (regardless of how little it may be) with total strangers because how can you not? It is good neighborliness that I only wish would be practiced between countries in the region.
My partner. She lives here and so do I. And I am forever grateful that we can be together in the same place.
And of course my friends. I have met more people here than in my entire life of living in Canada that I can confidently say will remain my friends for the rest of my life. People who genuinely care about you and who, even if distance were to separate us, would pick up where they left off at our next encounter. Even transient friends (those who come to Armenia regularly but live abroad) are valuable and it means that I now have more friends in different countries than I ever did in Canada.
Compiling this list wasn’t difficult (it took me maybe 20–30 minutes), and I’m sure there are many more reasons that I’ve simply forgotten at the moment (like how I can be 20 minutes late to work and no one will say anything, or how it’s so easy to have things like tables and cupboards handmade — at a fraction of what it would cost in Canada).
But I want to know: What are some of the reasons YOU love living in Yerevan or Armenia? (Please answer in the comments section.)
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 2:53 pm October 16, 2011
Lately, I’ve been wanting to spend less time online — or rather, less time on social networking sites. I have found that rather than help my work (I work in news media) Twitter and Facebook are actually affecting my productivity: in short, social networking sites are a big time waster — no surprise there, eh?
I know that it’s all about filtering (this brings to mind artist and comedian Vahe Berberian’s remarks at a recent public forum organized by Civilitas Foundation), but honestly, this simple act takes a lot more energy from us than we realize. Having to sort through all the non-essential, irrelevant news in my Facebook news feed or Twitter timeline is wearing me out to the point where I don’t have energy or any space left in my brain to do other things or… to contemplate life. And I need those moments of contemplation not only for peace of mind, but also to be able to write a blog post such as this one
I have become more aware of all the negative content I subconsciously consume on a daily basis and how much of that is through some form of media. More and more I feel the need to hear, read and watch material that is positive and uplifting (and I’m not talking about watching some Hollywood romantic comedy). Because hearing/reading/watching something positive not only makes me feel better about myself and the world we live in, but also makes me want to do stuff, to be active and present in my life, to reach out to people, to create. And oh how much we need more people in the world who are not complacent, not brainless consumers, but active participants, people who create and connect with others.
The two clips below are videos I watched recently (ironically, both I found out about through postings by friends on Facebook). The first speaks to the (negative) power of the media, while the second speaks to the (positive) power of interpersonal relationships and the power of now. What do you think?
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 11:51 pm September 6, 2011
A couple of days ago a good Hayastanci (born and raised in Armenia) friend of mine, introducing me to a new acquaintance, commented that she considers me բնիկՀայաստանցի (bnik Hayastanci, a native of Armenia), citing my experiences of living and working here to be just the same as any local.
And though it was meant as a compliment (and trust me, I am flattered when those born and raised here consider me one of their own), I can’t help but feel like an impostor. And I would hate to represent myself as someone that I am not.
The truth is, I cannot erase my privilege and difference from local Armenians. As a native English speaker, born and raised in the West, I am privileged no matter where I go in this world. I can travel freely to just about anywhere (well except for maybe Azerbaijan, though I have yet to try) — I only need to show my Canadian passport to get past just about any border with little hassle. But that is only the tip of the iceberg.
Believe it or not, in some cases, I even have more privileges than a local Armenian in her own country. I have access to tools and resources she does not and I have contacts — powerful currency when trying to secure work and locate opportunities to get ahead.
So why do I feel at such a loss?
Coming back from a visit back home, I realized how little I make use of my privilege here; that is to say, how little I use it for not only my but others’ benefit. For example, my ties in the Diaspora (though weak as I preferred to distance myself from the Armenian community in Toronto rather than embrace it) should’ve helped me secure financial and logistical support to help my friend Syu, whose mother in Armenia has been diagnosed with breast cancer and prescribed the atrociously expensive drug treatment Herceptin. Not to say that I didn’t reach out to my family and friends in Toronto, but I feel like I should’ve been able to do more than I actually did (and continue to do as Syu’s mom is still undergoing treatment).
I have realized that for as long as I have lived and worked in Armenia, I have opted to “blend in,” assimilate if you will, rather than acknowledge the fact that I am different and this is an unavoidable fact.
It’s true, my mother was born in Yerevan, and yes, I speak the local dialect with a sprinkle of Russian words that I learned in childhood, which makes me at least more “assimilated” than other Diasporan Armenians and repats. But it doesn’t erase my privilege — nor the fact that I have lived here without feeling like I fully LIVE HERE, despite what my friend says.
And I’m not the only one. So many of my expat and repat brothers and sisters live here without actually living here, without being a part of Armenian society. We have the privilege of being able to surround ourselves in a bubble of expat and repat friends, go to restaurants and gather in places that the average Hayastanci couldn’t afford to go to in a million years.
I myself am not part of this circle and actually feel more distant from most repats and expats than my close-knit circle of Hayastanci friends, but this doesn’t exclude the fact that, whether I like it or not, I am part of this group.
And lately I’ve been feeling that I should do something about that. As cliched as it may sound, use my privilege for good instead of running away from it. What do you think?
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 5:13 pm July 10, 2011
I’ve always been fascinated by how people live: how people spend their days, how they make decisions on what they will do on any given day. I think this stemmed from a childhood belief that everything was possible, that on any given day, at any given moment, you had an infinite number of possibilities of how you choose to spend your time on this earth and so it led me to wonder how people decide what they’re going to do and how they’re going to go about doing it.
Growing up, to be honest, is a bit of a disappointment. I realized that though there are many different ways to live, so many of us are the same, so many of us choose to do things like everyone else, and what I thought was an infinite number of possibilities is now a finite number — even worse, it’s a small finite number. Worse yet was realizing that not everyone is afforded the same possibilities, that not everyone has equal opportunities in this world. The injustice in this world still affects me deeply today — it just doesn’t manifest the same way as it did before.
Growing up means to accept things as they are (or even if you question the order of things, you still accept that this is how we have created the world to be). On a personal level, growing up means to settle in your life, to narrow your choices, to choose a certain path.
When I was younger, I thought adults knew everything: you could ask any adult any question and he or she would have the answer. And so for me, growing up was being able to know everything, which became a goal to strive toward and so, believe it or not, I looked forward to “being grown up” so I could know everything. Well, you already know how this story ends, and so this became disappointment number two growing up.
Having realized growing up did not mean knowing everything, I focused on my other mission of knowing how people live. I became fascinated with travelling, for I thought I would be able to acquire more examples of how people live (I was older, but as is evident, not yet “grown up”).
Adults would tell me, yes, good, go travel, see the world before you get married, buy a house, have kids and settle down (more or less in that order). I never agreed with that approach because even if I did decide to get married and/or buy a house and/or have children, why should that affect whether I travel or not? You can travel with your spouse and with your kids or you can travel alone — you just have to make the necessary arrangements. And now that I’m older, I still believe that that way of thinking is somewhat flawed, but I have realized something else: it’s not that you get “settled” with the combination of spouse/house/children, but it’s that you get settled in yourself. You become settled in your ways and perhaps more resistant to change. Or, as I said earlier, you choose a certain path in life and this inevitably narrows your choices, and it’s not that you can’t travel, but it’s that you choose other things over travelling — your priorities change and you become accustomed to your life.
However, I have to say, travelling (or more so these days, the thought of travelling) still stirs something in me and I still feel like a kid at heart. Though perhaps I am “grown up,” I still think my life could go in any number of directions and that’s exciting. Sure, things are a little bit more clearly defined now and yes, my options are narrower (let’s be honest, I’m not going to be an astrophysicist or fly to the moon or raise horses for a living in this lifetime), but I still believe that many things are possible. There is still much to do in this life and I never tire of the challenges it brings me.
And maybe that is the great thing of growing up: because as much as in my eyes as a child everything seemed possible, sometimes this was too much, too daunting, and I felt out of focus. Growing up has meant for me being more focused, organizing my priorities, and more clearly defining who I am and what my place is in this world. I realize that the directions my life has taken is because of choices I made. And that’s a wonderful feeling.
I think if we could all say that about our lives the world would be a much better place. What do you think? And how do you live?
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 7:06 pm June 26, 2011
Even the most well-intentioned people, those who are tolerant of gays — you know the type: they have friends who are gay or they know people who are gay, they say they don’t have a problem with gay people, etc. etc. — can be really frustrating to deal with.
In Yerevan, I have met straight people who hang out with queers, who are tolerant (as much as I hate this word), who support equal rights for all peoples. These people would stand out against injustice in any form and if someone attempted to physically hurt another person because he was gay, they would be up in arms in a second to defend him.
But too often I find that this “tolerance” has a limit, a boundary which cannot be crossed. Sometimes this limit has to do with queers raising or adopting kids, sometimes it has to do with gay marriage and sometimes it’s just simply being out as queer. And then there’s the disparity when it comes to men and women (and let’s not even talk about the disparity when it comes to acceptance of sexual preference vs. acceptance of gender identity): Too often in Yerevan (as I have no doubt elsewhere) I have come across straight guys who say they have no problems with lesbians but thinking about two men having sex is just disgusting (զզվելի) and unnatural (բնական չի).
True Story
I had the unfortunate experience of entering into such a conversation with two men yesterday at a friend’s house. There were 8 of us — 6 girls and 2 guys — with 4 of us being queer. As happens all too often, despite women being in the majority (and in this case, half of us being queer identified), it was the 2 men who spoke the most and took up the most space. And in this case, both men (partners of two of the women) were “tolerant” and, I would say, supportive of LGBT rights (including them among the umbrella of human rights), but they simply couldn’t imagine two guys together (there goes that word again: “disgusting”) and would really just wish queer folks would keep their business in their bedroom.
One of the guys even used the mother of all arguments: ազգի զարկացում (the development of the nation), meaning queers can’t procreate so our people would die off which proves his point that being gay is unnatural. Of course I tried to explain that everything still works and we were just as capable of having children as straight people and of course I could’ve tried to calm his “fears” that our people, the nation, the world wasn’t about to become 100% gay so he could relax, but do you think he even heard me?
And these straight, again I say well-intentioned, tolerant guys (let’s call them WI.T guys for short) usually talk too much, take up too much space (even though they believe women too should have equal rights as men — as if we need them to affirm this fact for us) and don’t realize how much space they take up and how much their discourse is just as dominant — if not more so in this day and age — as the one that says queers should go to hell. Because the saddest part of all this is that they SEE themselves as tolerant, as open-minded and as above those who believe that all us queers should be rounded up and shipped straight to hell (or at least get a good beating).
This WI.T guy used words such as առավելություն (“advantage”) and “propaganda” and ցուցամոլություն (“ostentation”) to describe queers today. He argued that oppressed groups (citing differently abled people in Armenia as another example) now have the advantage. That he supports them/us, but does not support the “propaganda” of the LGBT community (he didn’t use the words “LGBT community,” I did) and doesn’t understand why we have to be all up in his face anyway (the “ostentation”). No surprise then that he was against a pride parade in his city.
Now how, tell me how, can I explain to this WI.T guy that as tolerant as he is (or thinks he is), he still doesn’t get it, and how insulting and derogatory his choice of words and comments are?
Yes, I agree that the state has no place in our bedrooms, but until there are equal conditions, until equality is viewed as the norm and not something to be tolerated or given to us by the patriarchy, until that day comes, we have to have a parade, we have to come out, we have to say we exist, that we are here and we’re not going anywhere because if we don’t, you’ll trample all over us and our rights. Because even though you might “accept” us, you don’t SEE us, you still don’t make room for us at the table, your revolution doesn’t recognize that it has to include LGBT folks and that our voices have to be heard. And I’m not even talking about questioning his notions of what is natural and “unnatural.”
Photo of two men kissing: A. Sneider/zefa/Corbis (retrieved from Flickr on Jun. 26, 2011)
Public Displays of Affection
There’s another issue here too that my GF pointed out: public displays of affection are not tolerated. So when this WI.T guy says he takes issue with two guys making out next to him, it’s not only the fact that they’re two guys (though we’re not dismissing this fact), but also because they’re making out publicly.
The real-life true story that Mr. WI.T tells me and my GF is as follows: two guys at a table next to him in a cafe in Yerevan were all over each other — I mean they were practically having sex, he says — and when he asks the server to talk to them and she says, now, come on, don’t put me in that position, meaning she doesn’t want to be the bad guy, she doesn’t want to seem that she’s not tolerant of LGBT folks, I think, good for her. And I want to know what cafe is this and how amazing is it that two guys can make out in public in Yerevan and the staff doesn’t want to bother them, but what brings me joy actually causes him discomfort and unease and he wonders why he has to stay silent just because he’s straight. I try to explain the concept of reclaiming space, of when there is no space for you, you have to take it where you can and you have a right to that space as much as anyone else. But he sees only an unfair “advantage”: he asks the server if they were a heterosexual couple would she say something and she says yes, and so, I guess, believe it or not, he feels oppressed as a straight person in that situation.
But to get back to the title of this post, why Yerevan needs a pride parade: even the Well-Intentioned, Tolerant guys, even the human rights defenders and activists, even those who will stand beside us and be our allies and supporters — even these groups of people don’t realize what it means to be queer and live in this society, why we need to be reclaim space and why even though he may be tolerant, deep down he thinks that being gay is unnatural, that queers shouldn’t raise kids, we shouldn’t marry or attend church, and that really everything would be so much better if we didn’t exist and complicate his world.
Making Comparisons
And though I know this problem exists everywhere in the world, I can’t help but compare Yerevan and Toronto, a city that is celebrating Pride Week this week culminating in the city’s 31st Pride Parade on July 3. Thirty-first! According to the official Pride Toronto website, Pride Toronto has been in existence in various forms since the late 1970’s and annually since 1981 — more or less 10 years after the Stonewall Riots, 17 years before Amsterdam celebrated its first Gay Pride in 1996 and 24 years before Istanbul did in 2003, making Toronto Pride one of the world’s longest running organized Pride celebrations.
Photo of Toronto Pride Parade 2008: Wikimedia Commons (Neal Jennings from Toronto, Canada)
When I am confronted with WI.T guys, I can’t help but recall the Stonewall Riots in New York City in 1969 and the police raid of bathhouses in Toronto in 1981 that prompted queers and our supporters to organize demonstrations in which we fought for our rights — human rights — and drew attention to, raised awareness of and educated the masses on the plight of LGBT people in heterosexist societies.
Interesting to note in the Council of Europe report was the double discrimination that lesbian and bisexual women face in Armenia — particularly ironic after speaking to WI.T guys in Armenia who discriminate against gay men but not lesbian or bisexual women:
“The family may be experienced by LGBT persons as an institution of immediate social control. This imposes expectations on the gender roles of boys and girls alike, which can be problematic for LGBT children who do not meet them. NGO representatives in Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia and Turkey stressed the double discrimination facing lesbians and bisexual women in those states. As women, they are expected to marry and have children, and until they do they must come home directly from the workplace and not go out alone. Family honour is an influential concept.”
But Why a Pride Parade?
I’d like to end this post from a quote by a woman in the video (below) by Toronto-based group Queers Against Israeli Apartheid which should be recalled any time someone says they are ok with gay people, but are opposed to pride parades:
“Any kind of freedoms and liberations and rights that have been achieved has been achieved through the struggles of queer people and other oppressed people.” Pride parades or demonstrations are a part of that history of struggle.
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 10:29 pm June 25, 2011
Last week I (as well as my friend Kara Leva, it seems) was contacted by Elif Kayi for a story on the opinions and experiences of real queer bloggers following the cases of a Gay Girl in Damascus and LezGetReal.com — both instances where straight men were masquerading as queer woman online. I’m republishing Elif’s article (originally published online at EMAJ magazine) in full below:
Everybody has heard about “her.” For a few days, “she” had become the most famous queer woman in the Middle East, maybe even in the whole world. Amidst other worrying news, such as the violent repression carried out by the Syrian regime against segments of the population, the abduction of “queer blogger” Amina Abdallah Araf al Omari, presumbably by a group of armed men supposedly members the Baath Party security services or a militia, provoked a massive outcry amongst the international gay community. Support pages were immediatly created in mainstream social media such as Facebook, with slogans such as “Free Syrian Blogger Amina Abdallah a.k.a “Gay Girl in Damascus”.”
Bloggers and journalists active in social media closely followed the story, which once again reminded us of the vulnerability of bloggers in some countries, when they try to inform about their situation in those places. In this case, the blogger was said to be a young lesbian woman, describing her everyday life. Some people thought that her story would bring to light a reality often hidden: the everyday life of gay people. And despite the turmoil surrounding the “abduction,” the story was in fact revealing an issue to the general public, including readers who might normally be hostile, or at least indifferent to such stories. At least, it was news.
This is how Tom MacMaster, a Scottish student from Edinburgh, based in Istanbul, tried to justify his actions when it was finally revealed that the blog “A gay girl in Damascus” had been created not by “Amina” but by Mr. MacMaster. After the hoax was discovered, MacMaster wrote in his blog: “While the narrative voice may have been fictional, the facts in this blog are true and not misleading regarding the situation on the ground. I do not believe I have harmed anyone — I feel that I have created an important voice for issues I feel strongly about.”
Shortly after this, another hoax was revealed. A 58-year-old retired construction worker from Ohio, Bill Graber, admitted to the Washington Post that he had run the US-based lesbian website “LezGetReal.com“ under the name of Paula Brooks.
The gay community’s condemnation was merciless. For example, GayMiddleEast.com wrote: “Shame on you!!! There are bloggers in Syria who are trying as hard as they can to report news from their country. (…) We have to deal with more difficulties than you can imagine. What you have done has harmed many, put all of us in danger, and made us afraid to continue our (…) activism.”
These cases have cast extreme suspicion on blogs and bloggers. Even our magazine EMAJ received this comment after the publication of a post by the reporter Jasmin Roman: “Touching posts, but after all the fake bloggers being discovered, how do we know you are not like the rest? We have fake “pro”, fake “against” and now we have an “in the middle.” This “in the middle” sets quite well with the apologists in the West… Anyway, “Gay Girl” was interesting to read, even though “she” was a “he.” Your stuff is also interesting to read, and from the audio interview we know at least that you are a “she”.”
But getting back to the “queer blogosphere,” let us not evade the fact that there are often people who question the accuracy of information published in blogs, who minimize the problems described, who analyze them with a socio-moralist biais before getting to the point. So what could be better than the discovery of ”fake blogs” to discredit blogs in general?
Adrineh Macaan is a young woman, currently based in Armenia, working for an NGO based in Yerevan that publishes news online in four languages -Armenian, Russian, English and Turkish. Since 2008 she has run her own blog: “My blog is about my experiences as a lesbian Armenian woman originally from Toronto, Canada, but now living in Yerevan, Armenia. I write about my own experiences and things as I see them. I try to connect different issues and build bridges between communities, topics and countries. I started my blog in 2008 when I was planning a summer holiday trip to Paris, Amsterdam and Yerevan — three cities close to my heart. A colleague suggested I start a blog to document my travels and as a way of keeping in touch with family and friends back home. Since then the blog has evolved and the focus is more on local issues, being a repat in Armenia, being queer in Armenia and so forth.”
As to whether she has encountered problems running her blog, Adrineh says: “I haven’t encountered any difficulties (no hate mail or inappropriate comments left on the blog). On the contrary, I’ve only received positive feedback!” This is also the opinion of another female Armenian blogger, Kara Leva, currently studying law at the French University in Yerevan and involved in volunteer activities at the Women’s Resource Center in Armenia. “As I’m a social activist and liberal feminist, my blog is about social problems in Armenia, such as the uneducated class, which Armenias call “qyartu”, about violence — domestic violence, violence against women and child abuse — and about incidents in my life which I think about and discuss in my blog with my 1000-plus readers! I write about many other things which concern me personally. But I’ve never received hate mail. Sometimes I have had unfriendly comments under my posts, which I edit and post because everyone has their own point of view about different issues. I’ve never faced difficulties running my blog and so far I’ve received the support of my journalist and blogger friends.”
Regarding the reaction of friends and relatives, Kara emphasizes the positive impact of her blog: “They read my blog and start to understand, feel and know me better: how I see my life, as well as the daily social life of my country.” There is one limitation, however: “I never write things about politics.”
Not everyone in Adrineh’s circle knows about her blog: “My immediate family and close friends know about it, as do those who follow me on Twitter, but my extended family or anyone who I haven’t come out to, doesn’t. It’s a fine line: I don’t intentionally evade telling them — for example if someone asked me directly, I would tell them I have a blog, but I don’t go out of my way to tell them about it either. There is also the issue of language since my blog is exclusively in English, and not everyone has Facebook and Twitter or reads blogs. Even close family members who know I have a blog don’t read it regularly, so sometimes I send them a link to a post I wrote so they know what’s going on with me.”
About the everyday problems they face as lesbians in Armenia, Kara depicts a rather difficult situation: “I’m always facing problems like hate speeches by homophobic people around me and the no less homophobic Armenian society. I have fewer rights and I can’t express myself and my opinions as a lesbian. I always feel the psychological violence of the society in which I live.” Adrineh published an article about the issue in the queer Arab magazine “Bekhsoos” in 2010, in which she stated: “In a country where the rights of LGBT people are not protected, there’s no legislation that prohibits discrimination against LGBT folks, there’s never been a pride parade and no establishments are eagerly posting up rainbow stickers in their front windows, an out gay venue is hard to come by. But that doesn’t mean we don’t exist.”
And so the internet is one way to exist, at least for the general public… As many other bloggers, Adrineh was shocked about the revelation of the story of the “hoaxes”: “After the first case came out, I was appalled, but when I heard about the second case, I thought, who would’ve thought that the editor of a lesbian-focused website would turn out to be a man as well! A gay male blogger friend of mine said he didn’t know that being a lesbian blogger had become fashionable! That made me laugh. Who knew I was in vogue?”. But seriously, I was quite offended and surprised at MacMaster’s response, that he didn’t know he would hurt people or that things would get so out of hand. What were you thinking would happen, I want to ask. Apparently, both men wrote as women in order to be taken more seriously, which I also find surprising since as far as I can remember it’s always been women who’ve written as men to be taken more seriously.”
“It was the manipulation of a man who was using the pictures of an unknown girl. Had the girl whose pictures were being misused not gone public, people all over the world might have continued to believe this story about a girl supposedly kidnapped for her sexual orientation,” said Kara. She added, “But I can assure you this story had no influence on my blog. I think this is because I haven’t come out officially.”
All kidding aside, Adrineh concludes: “In the end I think these men did more harm than good. Even if they had good intentions, as MacMaster claimed he had, it doesn’t matter now, because what they did will have an effect on anonymous bloggers and activists who need to protect their identity while reporting on crucial issues. Though I have to say that being anonymous is preferable to posing as someone else: at least in the case of the former, you know that the person is anonymous (who can be male or female, straight or gay), but in the case of the latter, you are deceived about that person’s identity.”
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 12:19 am June 10, 2011
At the roundtable on sexual violence against women in Armenia yesterday, listening to co-founder and executive director of the Women’s Resource Center of Armenia (WRCA) Lara Aharonian talk, followed by remarks by deputy head of the Department for Crimes Against the Individual of the RA General Prosecutor’s Office Artur Davtyan and finally, deputy head of the Armenian Police Department of Juvenile Affairs Artur Vardanyan, I came to a very simple conclusion — we don’t speak the same language.
We all seem to be talking about the same thing and sorta-kinda saying the same things, but not really. While Lara was speaking about public perception of sexual violence, gender stereotypes and lack of resources in Armenia to support survivors of all kinds of abuse (and waiting till the end of her remarks to start throwing around some numbers), the two Arturs were, understandably on their guard, praising the work that their respective state agencies have done and apparently continue to do.
Photo by Liana Aghajanian
Neither of the representatives of the state agencies actually addressed the social, cultural concerns Lara raised — but then can you blame them? What did we expect them to say? For one thing, the fact that they were there meant at least that they were sympathetic to the issues raised — or that they felt the need to show that they were sympathetic. Of course they would cite articles from Armenia’s criminal code that charge perpetrators of sex-based crimes (Articles 138 through 142) and of course they would be explain their work in more detail, what they’ve done, what’s involved, what role they can play, because after all, we must understand, their job is not easy.
But what these two men couldn’t see — and interesting to note that the state agencies were represented by men while the NGO working to address the same issues was represented by a woman — what they couldn’t see is the human factor. The larger, societal, macro issue reflected in the micro day-to-day of our lives as women in this country, in this society, in this world. PINK Armenia president Mamikon Hovsepyan tried to at least draw attention to this by asking the men to put themselves in the woman’s shoes, think for a minute what it must be like… alas, I think the experience was lost on them.
One of the participants at the roundtable asked whether police would intervene in a domestic violence situation if the woman in the household was not the one who came forward herself, but, say, for example, a concerned neighbor called the police. Both Arturs responded in turn (it was hard to recall who said what, though the one from the general prosecutor’s office was more eager and forthcoming) that yes, police would investigate the incident; however, they could not actually launch criminal proceedings without the survivor coming forth herself. Which begs the question: Is there no legal obligation by police to intervene (i.e. in the interest of public safety) regardless of whether a victim (and I use the term here as it is understood in the judicial system) has come forth or not? Is there such a precedent in other countries?
The representatives, in my opinion, also did not effectively address the oft-stated complaint by NGO representatives and human rights activists that penalties for sex-based crimes in Armenia are quite lenient. Artur Davtyan stated that many factors are taken into consideration when determining the penalty for a sex offender, explaining that legal battles can be quite complex and proving that a crime occurred in such cases can be very difficult — not that this helped any of us feel any better. Neither did it show that he was viewing the situation from the perspective of the survivor. But again I ask, what did we expect? He was just doing his job.
And that is what frightens me. Even the well-meaning, well-intentioned people working in state agencies (if the two Arturs can be represented as typical examples) don’t reallly get it. They think they are doing all they can, but they are doing only all that which is within the limits of their job description and nothing more. While NGO representatives and human rights activists are fighting tooth and nail for the rights of victims, not only in cases of sexual abuse, but in many, many other areas too.
Photo by Liana Aghajanian
One final note about Lara (pictured, far left): she was a beacon of peace and patience. Somehow ending up between the two men (a quick shuffle of chairs led to this arbitrary arrangement), she was quiet, but strong, letting participants take the lead to speak up and raise their concerns. I got the feeling that she’d raised these concerns enough times and addressed these two state agencies (the general prosecutor’s office and the police) on enough occasions to know their language well.
And though I had the impression that civil society representatives and state agencies do not speak the same language and so cannot see eye-to-eye, Lara seemed to, at least to me, appear hopeful. When Artur Davtyan made an offer for his office to work together with the WRCA, Lara accepted. I guess in trying to find a common language you have to start somewhere.
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 12:27 am June 5, 2011
(I started writing this post on May 25, 2011, on the threshold of the release of journalist and opposition activist Nikol Pashinyan, who had been imprisoned in Armenia since 2008 under questionable charges related to his involvement in the events of Mar. 1–2, 2008, in Yerevan. Bear with me as this post goes in a direction you might not have expected, considering the title!)
These days my life revolves around Nikol Pashinyan: what he says, what he writes, who he talks to. Pashinyan is revered like a god by some people while, as I mentioned in a previous post, I’d rather hang on every word that my yoga teacher says rather than any politician — be it from the ruling party, an opposition member or one with no official party affiliation — or opposition activist says (and these days, they seem to be saying a lot, while saying very little — how convenient).
I admit, my work has been wearing me out a bit. The schedule’s still the same and the work itself hasn’t changed all that much, but I’m growing weary of local politics (and I haven’t even been here that long!). I don’t know what it is, but I’m not as excited about the promise of change as I was when I first got here. I guess you could say the honeymoon period is over
This became more apparent yesterday when I met a guy who’s originally from Yerevan, but has been living in New York City for the past 6 years. He’s back for two weeks, visiting his aging parents, and his excitement and awe (like a little child) of the everyday things here both annoyed me and made me jealous. I was annoyed because ուրց (oortz or thyme) tea is after all just tea, and having a good time with friends in the evening sharing food (even with people you just met) is practically routine, so what’s the big deal? I forget that for someone living life in NYC or Toronto or London or any number of other cities these experiences might be seen as something to cherish.
I was also filled with envy because I realized I don’t see things here the way he does (keep in mind, I wasn’t born in Yerevan, he was, though I’ve been the one living here) — and I miss it. I miss what Yerevan felt like when I was just a tourist or when I first arrived and everything seemed possible. Now that my life here has become more routine, I’ve lost that հայացք (view, or rather, perspective) and I don’t know how to get it back.
Which is part of the reason why I’ve been thinking about going away for a while. Nothing for certain yet and there are so many things that have to be factored into this decision before it becomes a reality, but lately I’ve been feeling the need to leave Armenia — in some way, I’ve lost my footing here and somehow I think that by being elsewhere I’ll get it back. What do you think? Have I caught the common virus going around this country in which people assume that things will be better in another country, the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, that sort of thing?
All I know is that despite the many amazing people I’ve met here and the many amazing things I’ve been able to be a part of, I haven’t felt like I’m building a future or working towards something meaningful. I feel like I do little things here and there that might make a small difference, but have neither a bigger impact nor a long-term strategy. I do think, however, that this feeling isn’t all that uncommon as most people I know don’t know if they’ll have their job tomorrow or how much longer it’ll be till their money runs out, which makes planning for the future just a tad bit difficult. Seems so many are just living by the seat of their pants — and that has been one of the hardest things I’ve had to adjust to here: the lack of stability.
I’m trying to find that balance between feeling that everything is possible (what I felt when I first arrived to Yerevan) and the need for stability. And it ain’t easy, let me tell you.
I will end with a note by blogger and fellow cyclist Tom Allen, who inspires me not only with a writing style that engages his audience but also with what he writes. In his recent post, he writes about taking control of your life:
“Our lives and [what] we do with them are entirely products of our own volition, given the opportunities available to us. All the inanities of modern existence, the procrastination and pointless pursuits, assume that being alive and healthy are entitlements.
“It’s probably worth reminding ourselves that they aren’t — then we might look upon our options with more respect, seeing real alternatives waiting to be grasped, not tomorrow or in a few years’ time, but today. We all hear stories of those who’ve had near-death experiences or terrible accidents and have gone on to grab life by the balls as a result of coming so close to losing it. […] it would be tragic to look back on a lucky life of good health and vitality and to realize that it was squandered in a system of living which wasn’t your own, and from which you never managed to wrestle control.”
Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: Le Retour — Adrineh @ 12:48 am April 26, 2011
I decided I just couldn’t live with “Le Retour in 3 Parts” for another day and so, to make things easy on all of us I am temporarily renaming this blog “Adrineh’s Blog” — till I can come up with a better name of course.
This happened as I was organizing the blogs I subscribe to and realizing I had to rename a few because the titles the bloggers chose didn’t fit with the content that I was seeking in their blogs. And of course I figured you might be doing the same things as you organize the list of blogs that you follow in Google Reader or Blogger or whatever you use to organize the information you seek online.
That’s why they say writers should read and journalists should scan the news. By becoming informed and seeing what works and what doesn’t in the work of others, you improve your own work.
A little bit of insight on a random Monday evening!
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