Yeghishe got married

Last Saturday we went to an Armenian wedding, and it wasn't just any wedding - our good friend and neighbor Yeghishe married Gayane, a beautiful, intelligent young woman from Yerevan. Yeghishe is the son of Arshaluys and Anahit, who are dear dear friends of ours in addition to living on the same floor of our building as we live on. They have included us in all kinds of festivities, brought us many gifts and helped us in countless other ways. So his marriage was a big deal to us.

Susan traveled to the ceremony and related events in Yerevan - American weddings are simple affairs compared with Armenian ones - while I just greeted the wedding party with a contingent of neighbors outside our building when the bride and groom drove into town in the early evening.

We then the crossed the street to Noyemberyan's party hall, where we spent six hours eating and watching about 200 people dance, and then eating more. Well, Susan danced up a storm too, Armenian-style. People here definitely know how to party.

I did shoot a video; it's only a few minutes long:

Towards the end of the video, Susan can be seen in several dance floor views.

Needless to say we had a great time.

Marshutni vignette

Marshutnis (marshrutnis, marshrutkas) are how we get around in Armenia: minibuses of various ages and in various conditions, often packed beyond the imaginable. Sometimes they remind me of those old films of 20 or so college kids getting out of one VW Beetle: I once counted 16 people in the two first rows - that's in six seats and what little floor space there is in a minibus. What can I say? We waste a lot of space and resources in the US.

Anyway, the other day I found myself in the back of a marshutni going to Yerevan; Tamara, another Peace Corps volunteer, was going to Ijevan, about a third of the way, and managed to get on the same marshutni at the last minute. It was far too crowded for her to make it back to sit with me or vice versa, but it wasn't insanely packed: at least I didn't see anyone sitting in anyone else's lap.

The picture below is of one of our regular marshutnis to Yerevan at the half-way rest stop, on a day almost exactly like the one when this story took place.

So we get to Ijevan and Tamara hands a bill to the driver to pay for her ride, and the driver doesn't have change. Suddenly all 25 or so people on the marshutni were very concerned, and several heads turned to look at me, wondering if I'd pay for Tamara. I saw her predicament, of course, so I started to dig into my pocket for change to pass up to her. But while I was digging I didn't see what happened up front - someone else was getting off, gave her fare to Tamara and gave Tamara's bill to the driver. Everybody was happy, except I was left to wonder if the driver had just decided that he wanted to take off for Yerevan rather than wait for the $1.30 fare.

Something about that situation was very typical of Armenia; it captured a piece of the country's essence: maybe it was just that the driver didn't have change, or that there was seeming chaos until everything somehow worked out anyway, or that almost the whole marshutni seemed to be involved, in a good way. Or perhaps it was just that I was so cramped I couldn't reach my pocket and therefore didn't come through in time to do my part and pay for my fellow foreigner's ride. Regardless, it was good.

Over the past year and a half of living here, I've made my peace with most of the petty annoyances and inconveniences that come with life on about $300 a month - which is not bad for here. Today I'm just grateful that I'm not subject to the more serious consequences that sometimes result from such limited incomes.