tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79572056990487569892024-02-20T22:10:01.604-05:00Go KartliMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.comBlogger129125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-64556275855242492092012-08-15T17:42:00.001-04:002012-08-15T17:42:08.146-04:00Copenhagen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We left Vienna on August 4, originally intending to take a train to Copenhagen. We'd bought our train tickets months in advance on a super sale online, and I printed out our boarding pass to take with us. Upon closer inspection, these tickets we'd gotten only went as far as Hamburg, Germany, and we had to do a small amount of scrambling to find the connector ticket from Hamburg to Copenhagen. It wasn't actually too much trouble--the biggest issue was trying to find a place to stay in Hamburg overnight, since we happened to be making our way through during the big Gay Pride weekend that draws in thousands of tourists. </div>
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Once we'd ironed out all our hiccups, we boarded our train from Hamburg to Copenhagen, and a little way out of town, our train boarded a boat.</div>
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This is our train. On a ferry.</div>
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Here we are, on our train, on a boat. How weird is that?</div>
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We made it into Copenhagen and had an awesome few days wandering around the town, riding the public transit boat-bus, and eating lots of yummy pastries. <br />
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The town hall square in Copenhagen</div>
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Another view of the square, this time with an odd fountain!</div>
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I think I want a horn like that. It looks like a Dr. Seuss creation</div>
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There was a lot of really beautiful architecture and pretty scenery in Copenhagen</div>
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But luckily, people didn't seem to take themselves too seriously (or at least the people at 7-11 didn't)</div>
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The old stock exchange building was one of my favorites, I think</div>
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But the harbor was cool, too</div>
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I kept pointing out cool wooden doorway signs/house numbers to Sam on this trip as potential woodworking projects for him to embark on when we get back to America and have a place to live</div>
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Inside the old fortress there was a windmill and a cannon. There was other stuff, too, but these were so photogenic</div>
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A pretty garden near the Little Mermaid statue, which we saw in the pouring rain and which Sam took pictures of with his camera, and which I don't have on my computer. </div>
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This statue/fountain was way cooler than the Little Mermaid, though. It's a viking goddess who turned her four sons into bulls to clear the land that became Copenhagen. </div>
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The dome of the Marble Church</div>
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Boats in the canals</div>
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The view from our boat-bus (a public transit "bus" that just happens to be a boat that travels back and forth up and down the main canal)</div>
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More boats</div>
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An international sandcastle festival was going on in Copenhagen while we were there</div>
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The marble church on the outside</div>
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Big ships and big clouds</div>
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Sam on our boat-bus ride</div>
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And then a self portrait on the boat</div>
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...which prompted another passenger to offer to take a regular picture of us. I think this one is worse than the self portrait because it lacks that whole "we're taking a self portrait! haha!"-ness</div>
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We spent a whole lot of time one day in Tivoli Park, one of Europe's oldest amusement parks</div>
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Towards evening, Sam got an ice cream named "Thor"</div>
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This ice cream cone consisted of chocolate ice cream and cookies and cream ice cream in a waffle cone, topped with soft serve ice cream, whipped cream, raspberry sauce, chocolate sprinkles and a giant chocolate-covered marshmallow.</div>
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Even though it was a tough task, Sam vanquished Thor on the field of battle. The halls of Valhalla surely await</div>
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Tivoli lights up nicely at night</div>
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See how pretty!</div>
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After Copenhagen, we flew to Iceland for many more Viking-themed adventures... Stay tuned for more on that!</div>
Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-73292774311986239212012-08-11T18:20:00.001-04:002012-08-11T18:20:34.052-04:00Vienna<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Vienna. I was in Vienna for a week, while Sam was there for a month. We went to Vienna for four days last summer, as part of our epic vacation through various parts of Europe and a side jaunt to Cairo. That wasn't enough time. A week wasn't enough time either, and Sam says that a month even felt too short. </div>
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Vienna is tough to describe. It's impossible to feel like you're taking the right pictures because everything there is so monumental. I'd get out my camera and stare at a building, then turn slightly to the right, again and again until I'd turned the full circle, realizing that I'd need hundreds of photos to capture everything that was spectacular about the view, and even these wouldn't grasp it. That said, all the beauty makes it easy to take good pictures. It's just about trying to find the *right* picture that's tough. </div>
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Here are a few of my not-so-worthy pictures from my week in Vienna. I ended up not taking too many snaps because of the overwhelming feeling that all my attempts would be underwhelming. Oh well. Maybe next time.</div>
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This is the main building of the Vienna University, where Sam studied</div>
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The university is just down around the inner ring road from the Rathaus, the city hall. No word on whether or not there are rats there.</div>
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View of the Austrian Parliament building from the Rathaus gardens</div>
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Front of the Parliament</div>
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A very cool mosaic on the second floor of a shop along the main pedestrian mall</div>
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Roof of St. Stephen's cathedral</div>
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St. Stephen's Cathedral</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEine0kWdXZ0zHfp_8DpBJmXMKC9w7g2QqJWMpnJgVtTLDR61-EJ5nK1nl9noTdwPEgqmptXOTLAvMCb0RZOmN_Yzpmpzb2TxJNsXwLH43jp-1BLZ4oZ3qvPjQ0qDpLGqC8JNGpsydAkj_o/s1600/DSC03617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEine0kWdXZ0zHfp_8DpBJmXMKC9w7g2QqJWMpnJgVtTLDR61-EJ5nK1nl9noTdwPEgqmptXOTLAvMCb0RZOmN_Yzpmpzb2TxJNsXwLH43jp-1BLZ4oZ3qvPjQ0qDpLGqC8JNGpsydAkj_o/s320/DSC03617.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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One of St. Stephen's gargoyles</div>
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This clock apparently does a whole song-and-dance show at noon, but I wasn't there at noon</div>
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The church just outside Sam's dorm wasn't too shabby</div>
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We trekked out to the Wienerwald, which sadly doesn't mean "wiener world", but which means the Vienna woods. It's a great park that we walked all around, hoping to see some wild boar. No pigs, sadly, but we did get a sweeping view of Vienna, which is huge. </div>
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We went out to the Prater Park in Vienna to walk around and ride some rides. We didn't ride this carousel, but maybe we should have? Anyways, it was propelled by real ponies. Real ponies. </div>
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Instead of the carousel, we rode this, which is apparently the tallest swings thing (what are these called?) in the world or Europe or Vienna or somewhere. It was tall, and a very cool ride.</div>
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Sam may not have found Die Jurassic Park as entertaining as I did, but he posed for a picture in front of it like a sport</div>
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Because we rode the swings thing, we skipped the ferris wheel. Seeing it made me want to watch The Third Man again. </div>
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So, again, looking back at these pictures (and my others from Vienna), I'm unimpressed at my abilities to capture a city in images. Can I just keep telling you all to visit all these places I've been? </div>
Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-49576424567640357782012-08-10T16:53:00.001-04:002012-08-10T16:55:43.538-04:00Side trip to Bratislava<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I made it to Vienna on Saturday, August 28 and was finally back with Sam. Sam's mom, sister and brother were in Vienna to visit him and to take a nice European vacation, and we spent Sunday together enjoying the city, going to the Music House Museum (a very cool museum, if you're in Vienna), eating lots of delicious food, and watching the new Batman movie ('cause what else are you gonna do in Vienna?). </div>
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On Monday, Sam was in classes for most of the day, trying to get a handle on the whole German thing (it's so weird for him to be studying a language that uses the Latin alphabet!), and the rest of us took a quick day trip to Bratislava, the capital city of neighboring Slovakia. It was just a short 75-minute cruise down the Danube to reach Bratislava, and the ride alone would have been worth it, even without a very cool city to see on the other end. </div>
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Some old ruins visible from the boat</div>
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Just before arriving at the dock in Bratislava, we passed under this bridge, with statues that I mistook for jumpers from further away</div>
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The same bridge, from a bit further away</div>
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We got a great view of the Bratislava Castle from the river</div>
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Our boat!</div>
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We docked and then took a speed-walking tour of the city (European 24-hour timetables caused some confusion in purchasing tickets, so we only had a couple of hours in Bratislava before having to board again back to Vienna). We could have easily enjoyed ourselves in Bratislava for many more hours or days, but it was nice to get a quick taste of another great city.</div>
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The National Theater building in one of the town's main squares, lined with lots of restaurants and cafes down the pedestrian boulevard that runs in front of it</div>
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Heather and I managed a decently successful self portrait on my camera before she showed me that her iPhone lets you see the picture you're trying to self-portrait. Hers turned out better, but it seems like cheating to this self-portrait purist</div>
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Scott, scoping out the distances to various other cities from this particular spot in Bratislava</div>
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Cool statue and cool church. Not sure what they're called. There was no time for learning names of things.</div>
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I have no idea why that statue was adorned with a hat, but it was.</div>
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This guy's hat might have been cooler, though. I don't think I would have felt very comfortable sitting on that bench for long. Would you?</div>
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Bratislava's old town is really beautiful, and wonderfully pedestrian friendly</div>
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In our last few minutes in Bratislava, we decided to try to hike up the hill to the castle (which we could see best from the river). We got quite the workout in doing so, between the stairs, and the hill, and the sprinting to make it there and back before the boat departed. It was definitely worth it, though, for the view and to see the castle closer up. If (when) I go back to Bratislava someday, I'm going to definitely take a tour of this castle. It looks so cool!<br />
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Almost there (puff puff puff)</div>
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Turned around view from in front of that gate above. We walked up a pretty steep hill to get here!</div>
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The view of the Danube from the castle. The river forms the border between Austria and Slovakia here.</div>
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A building inside the castle and part of the castle wall</div>
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Main castle building</div>
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Ceiling inside the gate</div>
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Walking back down the hill to make it to our Vienna-bound boat, which we did indeed catch</div>
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It was a short trip, one that I had not planned on before coming to Vienna, but one that I am very glad to have taken. Sam's family did some amazing things during their central Europe trip. In addition to really doing Vienna justice and seeing tons of museums and sights there, they also went to Bratislava, Slovakia; Prague, Czech Republic; Budapest, Hungary; and Salzburg, Austria. They got their money's worth on this vacation, I think!</div>
</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-45089140939496381152012-08-08T17:39:00.003-04:002012-08-08T17:39:20.606-04:00Running my Vacation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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(Sorry, guys... forgot to upload all my pictures to my computer, so this is a text-only blog post. Stay tuned for more pictures soon, I promise!)</div>
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One constant for me on this vacation has been going for a
run, wherever I am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I signed up to
run the <a href="http://monumentalmarathon.com/">Indianapolis Monumental Marathon</a> at the beginning of November.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not long after pressing the accept
button to process the payment for the race, I sat, scouring the internet for
the best training program.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my
previous marathons, I trained using the <a href="http://halhigdon.com/training/51135/Marathon-Training-Guide/">Hal Higdon</a> training plans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re spectacular, especially for
beginners, and if you’re thinking of doing a marathon (or half-marathon, or 10K
or 5K), I’d highly recommend them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’d been hearing a lot about a new training plan, though, and decided
I’d give it a shot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So at the
beginning of July, I started out on the <a href="http://www.runnersworld.com/article/0,7120,s6-238-244-255-13791-0,00.html">Hanson’s marathon training plan</a>.</div>
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I didn’t really think about the fact that I’d have to find a
way to fit in my training while traveling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To be honest, I really haven’t had a good track record of
exercising on vacation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I might
have good intentions and make resolutions to run on vacation, but then an early
morning flight or hot weather or the lure of delicious food or the attraction
of staying in bed longer always derails my efforts.</div>
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But I don’t think I’ve taken an extended vacation while
training for a marathon before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Marathon training, for me, has become something to be taken
way too seriously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read
everything I can about the best way to do this or that or the best gear or
nutrition or whatever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read
blogs and forums and magazines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
geek out, marathon-running style.</div>
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Given all this, there was no way I wouldn’t run during my
vacation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m in the midst of
traveling for more than a month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No way I’m going to be able to not run for that long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Additionally, sleeping in a tent for
the better part of this journey through very northern countries in the summer
means that I’m up early (not quite with the sun, since the sun has been rising
at between 4-5am in a lot of the places I've been).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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So I get up and I run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I run past ruins, past ancient castles and buildings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I run past war monuments and city
parks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see birds and foxes and
rabbits and drunken Norwegians, stumbling back to their hostels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see the cities I visit coming awake,
coming to life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smell the bread
being baked and the fresh air off the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And never have I been more thankful to a pastime.</div>
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I don’t know how many of you reading this run.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not a sport that everyone can do
or likes to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I do hope that
all of you at some point this summer will go out and run, walk or cycle through
a city you don’t know well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Go out
and explore while the locals are still sleeping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t worry about getting lost—just bring enough money for
bus/metro/cab fare back to your starting point if you get too far off
track.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t have to go fast
or far, but you do have to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
focus is just on the act of getting yourself moving with no intent other than
to be grateful for motion and the chance to soak in a new environment .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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As the years go by, I find myself becoming more and more
dedicated to running, not because I’ll ever be a great runner, but because
running gives me so much in return for my measly 30 minutes or so of time each
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thanks, running!</div>
</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-74335637988922738842012-08-03T15:14:00.002-04:002012-08-03T15:19:38.816-04:00So Poland has changed a lot in 12 years<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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After Riga, I took a bus (an overnight bus) to Warsaw, Poland. I was last in Poland in 2000-2001, the year after graduating from high school, when I lived in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olsztyn">Olsztyn</a> as a <a href="http://www.rotary.org/en/studentsandyouth/youthprograms/rotaryyouthexchange/Pages/ridefault.aspx">Rotary International Exchange Student.</a> That time in Poland marked my very first trip outside of the USA, and the first time I'd seriously studied a foreign language--out of complete necessity. In 2000, Poland wasn't a member of the European Union, not too many people spoke English very well (at least not outside of Warsaw), and, let's face it, the world was a lot less technologically developed. I used an AOL email address, and loading a single email (when I went to the internet cafe in town) took about 7 minutes. It was a different time and place, wherever you were.</div>
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I wasn't sure exactly what to expect in Warsaw in 2012. I also wasn't planning on staying for too terribly long, since it's a place I've been to before. I was missing Sam and wanting to get on to Vienna to see him (it had been over a month, after all!) and to see Vienna (a major world destination, after all!). In fact, I probably should have stayed in Warsaw longer. All I can say is, if Warsaw isn't on your list of top 10 cities to visit in the world, it should be. I'll give you a minute to adjust your lists. </div>
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Now I'll go on to showing you some photo evidence to back up my claims.</div>
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First, this was my bus from Riga to Warsaw:</div>
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Individual monitors, Wifi, cappuccino, comfy seats... it wasn't too rough a journey</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimp0iTVGuKXu_cqSieTzrU_adBO1TRaHxTqtz9f3XAXfhEJwpGZSvYm_OXJMaKcHg9ia_Z7Jj8wge92tmd32Q87D0AMCNSXs5Ug6RhlxgVIiLiaFqgDsFdeFP31khs1JLV2OmBKBh3Cno/s1600/DSC03510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimp0iTVGuKXu_cqSieTzrU_adBO1TRaHxTqtz9f3XAXfhEJwpGZSvYm_OXJMaKcHg9ia_Z7Jj8wge92tmd32Q87D0AMCNSXs5Ug6RhlxgVIiLiaFqgDsFdeFP31khs1JLV2OmBKBh3Cno/s320/DSC03510.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Warsaw's Old Town (made famous in the first unit of my first Polish book, entitled "Co to jest?", or "What is this?" when we learn how to say "Co to jest?-- To jest columna Krola Zygmunta.", or "What is this?--This is the column to King Sigismund.")</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_PDJJjAH33pb7i_h66vcxfjxuLQPNWJAoTtUEN8JTi4JQ87Zx40UH7JBm47Gi9X7kx2p9oyuJmNo5_WR42EaCH1Z6D5g3BeJXNtvdTra6X6r6ED68i4ddkzKQ29_kFbFDShzhy1ghXM/s1600/DSC03523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_PDJJjAH33pb7i_h66vcxfjxuLQPNWJAoTtUEN8JTi4JQ87Zx40UH7JBm47Gi9X7kx2p9oyuJmNo5_WR42EaCH1Z6D5g3BeJXNtvdTra6X6r6ED68i4ddkzKQ29_kFbFDShzhy1ghXM/s320/DSC03523.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/UEFA_Euro_2012">Euro Cup 2012</a> Stadium was a very new addition to the Warsaw skyline </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLKeQt1LfRB2x4SFKR1V9qtWEBL-BqnHquDFCLKRAhhdYEEEgLlf-ugE3bRxhiFicZKo6fEx61zVRUYE9sKkPqiwptQWRz37XajsE9Vax3JmI3_ot1gmAJ1fW0LiD4EACN9QZYkUyVWjs/s1600/DSC03524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLKeQt1LfRB2x4SFKR1V9qtWEBL-BqnHquDFCLKRAhhdYEEEgLlf-ugE3bRxhiFicZKo6fEx61zVRUYE9sKkPqiwptQWRz37XajsE9Vax3JmI3_ot1gmAJ1fW0LiD4EACN9QZYkUyVWjs/s320/DSC03524.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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This store is called the "Sugar Owl". Just thought it was a cute name and a cute sign.</div>
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The Old Town, including this main square, is a <a href="http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/30/">UNESCO World Heritage Site</a>, despite being completely destroyed by the Nazis during WW2 and rebuilt after the war</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4uyGnxguX5_7vBsyQbv6hv5p4Vui_HxbzXidRHoTPdkAbunAQz058Ile_0kpvSpBYGgXvYr9YV9SClslUYmmm4JJIyDzNRamK-VRqEkIPkwkxaqE_xFhLByHesjAgtYgIATLMypniiO0/s1600/DSC03529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4uyGnxguX5_7vBsyQbv6hv5p4Vui_HxbzXidRHoTPdkAbunAQz058Ile_0kpvSpBYGgXvYr9YV9SClslUYmmm4JJIyDzNRamK-VRqEkIPkwkxaqE_xFhLByHesjAgtYgIATLMypniiO0/s320/DSC03529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The mermaid <a href="http://www.inyourpocket.com/poland/warsaw/The-story-of-Syrenka-The-Symbol-of-Warsaw_71466f">symbol</a> of Warsaw</div>
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The Warsaw History Museum was closed, but had posted fantastic multi-lingual signs all over town about different historic things. In the main square, they had an overview of Poland in the olympics. I really liked the picture of the pole vault in the early 20th century, which looks to be over a lower bar than high jumpers clear nowadays</div>
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The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ma%C5%82y_Powstaniec">Little Insurgent Monument</a></div>
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The<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warsaw_Uprising"> Warsaw Uprising</a> Monument. I was glad to see this, even though I mistakenly came here when my intended destination had been the <a href="http://www.1944.pl/">Warsaw Rising</a> Museum. This is a fantastic museum, probably one of the best I've been to and a good enough reason on its own to go to Warsaw. Seriously. Go to Poland.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITCM3OeOXWGaLTRQ4odYUmw9s1YGYir30FYpTGVlbBMVedCuASr0FW8hyJhmJyoeQr_sstQ8QY0eOpIqNG4CYgp9rrsqldkalIC8K4ubjG3ZpqUPyEy3bXcgd4PchLdjDfIlTuAgnZeE/s1600/DSC03559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITCM3OeOXWGaLTRQ4odYUmw9s1YGYir30FYpTGVlbBMVedCuASr0FW8hyJhmJyoeQr_sstQ8QY0eOpIqNG4CYgp9rrsqldkalIC8K4ubjG3ZpqUPyEy3bXcgd4PchLdjDfIlTuAgnZeE/s320/DSC03559.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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...But the uprising failed, the Germans destroyed the city, the Soviets came in and "liberated" it, and Warsaw's skyline still includes a big Soviet building</div>
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The Warsaw Rising museum has a cool video of Pope John Paul 2's speech in 1979 when he visited Poland, where he talked about this statue being destroyed during the uprising. I think it might be from <a href="http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/john_paul_ii/speeches/1979/june/documents/hf_jp-ii_spe_19790602_polonia-varsavia-autorita-civili_en.html">this</a> speech, but I can't remember now. Regardless, watching the videos and the crowd reactions was incredible.</div>
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Another cool statue in Old Town</div>
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I happened into St. Anne's church just in time for an organ concert</div>
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The restored organ sounded incredible</div>
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During my wonderful visit in Warsaw, my stay was made all the more memorable and pleasant in that I was able to stay with some friends. In truth, Stephanie is my sister Jenny's best friend from high school. Stephanie and her husband, along with their three adorable kiddos, have been living in Warsaw for two years and very graciously invited me to stay with them. <br />
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K, playing with the best $2 gift I could have ever possibly bought, some bendy building block thingies</div>
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S was not to be outdone by his big sis</div>
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M was a little too little for the building block things, but I'll be gosh-darned if she wasn't about the cutest living thing that crawls</div>
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K likes to write stories on the bus</div>
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Stephanie and S playing a quiz game on the bus</div>
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M was content with a "Bah!" on the bus</div>
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The kids really got into self portraits!</div>
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In the end, my short trip to Poland was way, way too short. Sam has never been, though, so I'm hoping to make it back with him again sometime in the near future. And, to all of you who have now added Poland to your must-travel-to lists--LET ME KNOW when you go! I'd love to go with you!</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-39389649847894084272012-07-26T03:44:00.003-04:002012-07-26T03:44:34.591-04:00Country 29—Latvia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I departed Tallinn for Riga, the capital city of neighboring
Baltic country, Latvia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although
I’d been to Lithuania and Estonia before this trip, I’ve somehow always missed
the middle sister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Go figure. Counting up, Latvia is now the 29<sup>th</sup>
country I’ve been to in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>By the end of this trip, I’ll have hit 31 countries, (although I’ve still
never been to Canada).</div>
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The Riga Old Town has some beautiful streets</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_mh6y7Uaay71pQgMOWJA5s0MwO9n4ObbNHuhn8hGUP_mKfEd-1ploAM1OLxwcmhccVvEIHXG1FPml9AqRMyF_BTuebQCinSgSJGb2Lkf-ny8qqi6TzUByWEjRWHQg-RYvFBHabqFilw/s1600/DSC03445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh_mh6y7Uaay71pQgMOWJA5s0MwO9n4ObbNHuhn8hGUP_mKfEd-1ploAM1OLxwcmhccVvEIHXG1FPml9AqRMyF_BTuebQCinSgSJGb2Lkf-ny8qqi6TzUByWEjRWHQg-RYvFBHabqFilw/s320/DSC03445.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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And they open up into lovely little squares</div>
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The old Powder Tower was home to a lot swallows today</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsAf2YCaI6n_tfrnSG1ZtPg2aPd5VVF0zxbnWn0ZHUFpzYvdfL01VTeH7sVXGItFKVmE4jqRM6sVl3_wBfSV48pK8ZH7Rm-S_UYX6hbWAwGcxvYKYpbyusvagqcmozLFxN3rVvqVXwBSk/s1600/DSC03449.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsAf2YCaI6n_tfrnSG1ZtPg2aPd5VVF0zxbnWn0ZHUFpzYvdfL01VTeH7sVXGItFKVmE4jqRM6sVl3_wBfSV48pK8ZH7Rm-S_UYX6hbWAwGcxvYKYpbyusvagqcmozLFxN3rVvqVXwBSk/s320/DSC03449.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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There were lots of beautiful church spires, too</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcqlmWsOwfr2mVz-QAz7_R6b2slbFYcnQ7j7_XbQqwNpPeBpfE2p1_ZzbaTycka5XXimuspkk687c1lwv2xW3F6QbPVENP4dGaG6aEtNp3m2DD3rD5HQDWiNRQkovKYNyzSRHEriEBd0/s1600/DSC03452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivcqlmWsOwfr2mVz-QAz7_R6b2slbFYcnQ7j7_XbQqwNpPeBpfE2p1_ZzbaTycka5XXimuspkk687c1lwv2xW3F6QbPVENP4dGaG6aEtNp3m2DD3rD5HQDWiNRQkovKYNyzSRHEriEBd0/s320/DSC03452.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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I could have taken pictures of all of the buildings around town (and by the end of this post you may think that I did)</div>
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My host family in Akhalkalaki was especially excited that I
was including Riga on my itinerary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Host uncle, Pavlik, studied at the Riga University and Emilia and Akop
took a long vacation to visit him and get him settled in at some point (I don’t
know the exact date, but it would have been between 1989 and 1991).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Emilia would often reminisce about
those days, about how difficult things were for the family then, and about how
much she loved that vacation and Riga in particular. (As an aside for
background, in 1988 there was a devastating <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1988_Spitak_earthquake">earthquake</a> in Armenia that also
affected Akhalakalaki, then Emilia’s husband passed away in 1989 or 1990, while she had two sons in college.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was a tough period, even without considering the 1991 collapse of the USSR, the
only country Emilia had ever lived in. Given all of this, I'm surprised she could keep it all together and move forward, but she did and this trip seems like it was one of the first highlights after a very dark, difficult time.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I got tips from Emilia about what to see and do and where to eat, which
the others would chuckle at, because things have undoubtedly changed in the
22-year interim.</div>
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Another beautiful square in the old town</div>
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An old wooden church that was burned down and reconstructed 8 times in its 400+ year history</div>
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The ruins of a synagogue. <a href="http://www.rumbula.org/remembering_rumbula.shtml#overview">Riga's Jewish population</a> was almost completely decimated during WW2</div>
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Of course Riga has its nice, Stalinist buildings as well. They call this one "Stalin's Birthday Cake"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7373hyphenhyphenyt2P3V1uXXncfs8AHOaffjTFNhuHDTlGN8dsSUgpVjzDOkgSWbMqgav472VT0TFapgM-3WM-Q6ewdKuuWxnUSjf9El2vDK9pBGcQKAQNZjlkVr7DNyjp3JoyBz3WCTf_giiYh4/s1600/DSC03467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7373hyphenhyphenyt2P3V1uXXncfs8AHOaffjTFNhuHDTlGN8dsSUgpVjzDOkgSWbMqgav472VT0TFapgM-3WM-Q6ewdKuuWxnUSjf9El2vDK9pBGcQKAQNZjlkVr7DNyjp3JoyBz3WCTf_giiYh4/s320/DSC03467.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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Another cool old town building, now a bank, but with the coats of arms of all the regions of Latvia decorating the side</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGmc5jtqTtAdX6Bwub-mi6M8ImcwuBfJbFqVpRkj2x2J-uyZnRD2d50MHYoPTGjAQ_cF9Yt0LEynIy8TkyYBUS4ecL2mDQZD_b4C9gcKsG9jv_a7LYmkzw1ilungLxOhvE-HUN7WTOGk/s1600/DSC03472.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGmc5jtqTtAdX6Bwub-mi6M8ImcwuBfJbFqVpRkj2x2J-uyZnRD2d50MHYoPTGjAQ_cF9Yt0LEynIy8TkyYBUS4ecL2mDQZD_b4C9gcKsG9jv_a7LYmkzw1ilungLxOhvE-HUN7WTOGk/s320/DSC03472.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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Emilia was absolutely right about one thing, though—Riga is
a beautiful city, with lots to do, see and eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has a very
different feel from Tallinn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
lacks the medieval wall and watchtowers, for starters, and has many more buildings
with distinct styles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From my Riga
Free Tour guide, I learned that about 40 percent of the buildings are
designed in the <a href="http://www.latvia.travel/en/art-nouveau-riga/">Art Nouveau</a> style, thanks to a <a href="http://acre.socsci.uva.nl/case-studies/riga.html">British mayor of the city</a> in the
early 1900s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like Estonia, Latvia
has been invaded, conquered, occupied, and overrun for centuries, and has a lot
of different cultural influences that have shaped it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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A cool Art Nouveau building</div>
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The House of the Blackheads, an old German merchant guild house</div>
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St. Peter's Cathedral spire</div>
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One of the main parks. There are apparently beavers living in this canal, but I didn't see any of them</div>
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In this park, it's tradition for newlyweds to lock a lock onto a bridge and throw the key into the canal, to symbolize that their union will never come undone</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr2RlqCnTzbLVAAprhqwMo34GYrSfr7e83CUfsLK9WU9GCdbXwAwfADJ4ss8_V-kslVKlV1k6EWHnRI0TorisGyKezrN7sSFBkVVoQK96lAtWSLRMOaFMH0V1UiZvK-tcwiPOOfaGE8wE/s1600/DSC03469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr2RlqCnTzbLVAAprhqwMo34GYrSfr7e83CUfsLK9WU9GCdbXwAwfADJ4ss8_V-kslVKlV1k6EWHnRI0TorisGyKezrN7sSFBkVVoQK96lAtWSLRMOaFMH0V1UiZvK-tcwiPOOfaGE8wE/s320/DSC03469.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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The parks were beautifully landscaped and overflowing with flowers</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg26k4wTKrh9MYk9mdoFTTHuAsKuKFju185ou6k0RCu7Hpz1-H1P8jtx52bvqo-FFeH1O_NXV8_HweTHlndgEWYmdL3OwEa6mpExnq_sRHYMwfKZ_xmMjcRNglauZZXxPcaMmCj0ZSgEXk/s1600/DSC03471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg26k4wTKrh9MYk9mdoFTTHuAsKuKFju185ou6k0RCu7Hpz1-H1P8jtx52bvqo-FFeH1O_NXV8_HweTHlndgEWYmdL3OwEa6mpExnq_sRHYMwfKZ_xmMjcRNglauZZXxPcaMmCj0ZSgEXk/s320/DSC03471.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.laima.lv/en/">Laima</a> is one of the biggest chocolate companies in Latvia. The Freedom Monument is visible in the background</div>
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The flower market was incredible</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyP_yXJDZeNU1ZXSCmxWh51VYPyp8h86Mx2m5WIvlt7yuXfmkq5TZHk0c_OqWt6L31vLObMexkMo4wy9rQiMIZqPGr_E6kK-esJBeAYB9doKDbmJ_q9Lj7IaKlkOgmNHUB_gqMtoq06-s/s1600/DSC03462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyP_yXJDZeNU1ZXSCmxWh51VYPyp8h86Mx2m5WIvlt7yuXfmkq5TZHk0c_OqWt6L31vLObMexkMo4wy9rQiMIZqPGr_E6kK-esJBeAYB9doKDbmJ_q9Lj7IaKlkOgmNHUB_gqMtoq06-s/s320/DSC03462.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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Since I didn’t have the chance to do a day trip out to the
countryside, I did the next best thing: I went to the Open Air Ethnographic Museum
on the outskirts of town and spent a day wandering around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The museum includes over 100 houses and
buildings from all over Latvia, ranging in age from 500-100 years old, and
typical of all different types of building styles across Latvia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It helped that there was beautiful
weather and a beautiful natural setting, and that the cafeteria served up
really tasty traditional Latvian cuisine (I got a big bowl of beet soup with
rye bread and a big plate of fried squash with carrot cream sauce, with a Latvian
beer to drink) at non-museum prices (all of my food and drink together cost
about $3) didn’t hurt either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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The faux-baroque alter inside an 18th century church</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-Jvmi0M8LCUl3hdsTvPgSb3EYz5NX-GVne5BYpnAzBUytJHf6MHotx_XFe1_oOuVQnWusmBiMnLUBwDL_197R0l05ZJSRd7gC89rcXHFCGusj34vHHDgIdjPM06WXsy-nFD0hOAhvw4/s1600/DSC03473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-Jvmi0M8LCUl3hdsTvPgSb3EYz5NX-GVne5BYpnAzBUytJHf6MHotx_XFe1_oOuVQnWusmBiMnLUBwDL_197R0l05ZJSRd7gC89rcXHFCGusj34vHHDgIdjPM06WXsy-nFD0hOAhvw4/s320/DSC03473.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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The ceiling had paintings of angels playing drums</div>
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Typical grave markers for 18th century Latvia</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXwCGkIm0c9MJ1_1lyDKFTG_5p1jF29PRJU6vNBXpbDubV7jgq4dY34mPLpp90P2ioeAFaDwFGF-RYmPFAkmpgIvE-Fi7xhY9zTopdZfTuOuWl7almvCpKIju_8-fmBmO-K7jgm0BZcrU/s1600/DSC03475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXwCGkIm0c9MJ1_1lyDKFTG_5p1jF29PRJU6vNBXpbDubV7jgq4dY34mPLpp90P2ioeAFaDwFGF-RYmPFAkmpgIvE-Fi7xhY9zTopdZfTuOuWl7almvCpKIju_8-fmBmO-K7jgm0BZcrU/s320/DSC03475.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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A roadside Mary-Jesus monument that looks like it was made by the creator of Beavis and Butthead</div>
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There were lots of cool old houses and barns</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeIQeVIPIyZ8EBLtGqV6FPOPptFzoCK6nD-gluvNT9ZJmeWLRypqShGPoMCCcvtXRL7BoBYt5qIYPZD3gT6VKWqfpvqL0S6w3h-V8VnXLoB0xaR3xezRxk7JxPpRWkFxTZwYmZce_Vlwk/s1600/DSC03478.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeIQeVIPIyZ8EBLtGqV6FPOPptFzoCK6nD-gluvNT9ZJmeWLRypqShGPoMCCcvtXRL7BoBYt5qIYPZD3gT6VKWqfpvqL0S6w3h-V8VnXLoB0xaR3xezRxk7JxPpRWkFxTZwYmZce_Vlwk/s320/DSC03478.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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I definitely prefer modern conveniences to 19th century peasant houses, but these were cool to see</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2TSAuD4tTb4iJN6yOqSwPm7Z5wp0b9W4sDmLSc1IJSh7wZQ18lLwtfBX2CciyP5K_Ul6QqwW3_tk4o6YrGnOt65_urnZM05Kj1-EDv8a_XQBW6xOWX2JeixTjdsozK37nPAz_NV-Rx5A/s1600/DSC03482.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2TSAuD4tTb4iJN6yOqSwPm7Z5wp0b9W4sDmLSc1IJSh7wZQ18lLwtfBX2CciyP5K_Ul6QqwW3_tk4o6YrGnOt65_urnZM05Kj1-EDv8a_XQBW6xOWX2JeixTjdsozK37nPAz_NV-Rx5A/s320/DSC03482.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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It's hard to imagine how they moved all these buildings to the museum</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRrobSLm6QursTGecoybIjw80CQIHBkb7imHyMZEJMOXMcBnzYq7E67k027NicEGTaxpMbPQoprIs3LRZ_LMoqNUlzTo7g4M9oBlq89SxfvWdL9FdhO_zz6zqW5Oo4kXbbIOPlpCLOHLI/s1600/DSC03483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRrobSLm6QursTGecoybIjw80CQIHBkb7imHyMZEJMOXMcBnzYq7E67k027NicEGTaxpMbPQoprIs3LRZ_LMoqNUlzTo7g4M9oBlq89SxfvWdL9FdhO_zz6zqW5Oo4kXbbIOPlpCLOHLI/s320/DSC03483.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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Cool cross on top of one of the museum's churches</div>
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A locomobile!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT0koYnngYOC_KR2r7KpESZnbXnwdKS_mqIOkCRW3FEMXwzUfUzviizJRn3kxkgxOZsCeYaDoJQT4PY0L-NjUIBG0WU_GMiY7d-tBFwB5OADVkHdKlMVBBldzdbR9Z06U7f9JjY-Snbg0/s1600/DSC03487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT0koYnngYOC_KR2r7KpESZnbXnwdKS_mqIOkCRW3FEMXwzUfUzviizJRn3kxkgxOZsCeYaDoJQT4PY0L-NjUIBG0WU_GMiY7d-tBFwB5OADVkHdKlMVBBldzdbR9Z06U7f9JjY-Snbg0/s320/DSC03487.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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They had an art display of old wooden carvings done by a Latvian from the western region of the country</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_wDKWQM9k_MB6PZRIY9F5ippvXxQYVnsUeI7EsENaaBZAVt1YMgTIHhimbG7hzR6M8c5pJzb7UciGQb9YRriU0nFlvWwyFghg2gLcEznpzZ1ySB-730PcaehAeZGXROEp7ry2gXE9-w/s1600/DSC03488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_wDKWQM9k_MB6PZRIY9F5ippvXxQYVnsUeI7EsENaaBZAVt1YMgTIHhimbG7hzR6M8c5pJzb7UciGQb9YRriU0nFlvWwyFghg2gLcEznpzZ1ySB-730PcaehAeZGXROEp7ry2gXE9-w/s320/DSC03488.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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A 17th century tavern</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSPLV3VeW0miER-tu0ejcxBKLnb5W-Fy4Q5M6tUQX2JDPxzAOoXN0RtK7cif7fyFsYz02cO1Bg6mTSy3HdZQ7CGWg9Xa_MRNJSHcu364YDD3qFCumJYYrHZ4vm1UlWht7-KHqRbRVTl8/s1600/DSC03490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimSPLV3VeW0miER-tu0ejcxBKLnb5W-Fy4Q5M6tUQX2JDPxzAOoXN0RtK7cif7fyFsYz02cO1Bg6mTSy3HdZQ7CGWg9Xa_MRNJSHcu364YDD3qFCumJYYrHZ4vm1UlWht7-KHqRbRVTl8/s320/DSC03490.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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Self portrait by the lake</div>
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I’ve mentioned that I camped while in Finland, and I camped
in Latvia as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The campsite in
Riga is just outside of the Old Town, on an island in the middle of the
river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It takes about 15-20
minutes to get downtown, and for that small price I get some spectacular views
across the river at the town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The island
itself is home to a bunch of 19<sup>th</sup> century fishing and shipping
related buildings that have been transformed into some really swanky houses (or
are awaiting renovation and high selling prices, I’m sure).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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One of the old wooden houses just begging to be renovated</div>
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Not too shabby a view from the campsite, huh?</div>
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In planning this trip I saw a lot of options to take about 2
weeks to bike through the Baltics, hitting up different natural wonders and
cultural events, as well as seeing all of the major cities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There have been a number of tourists
doing this as I’ve made my more meager trip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I leave one country for another and continue my journeys,
I’m already hatching a plan to come back and try out the Baltics-by-Bike
adventure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I can convince my
brother to join me?</div>
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These buildings make up the central market of Riga, a very cool covered market where you can get all kinds of fresh produce. The buildings were supposed to be zeppelin hangars, but once they started to crash and burn, the idea of housing a huge number of blimps suddenly became not so ideal, so they transformed the building into a bazaar</div>
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<br /></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-43869109136028303862012-07-24T14:37:00.000-04:002012-07-24T14:37:28.875-04:00Lahemaa National Park, Estonia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
On Saturday, I signed up for a tour around the <a href="http://www.keskkonnaamet.ee/lahe-eng">Lahemaa National Park</a> in Estonia through my hostel. I went out for a run in the morning and it was beautiful. I congratulated myself on my forethought to choose this day to go out traipsing through a swamp and to the beach and so on. My group was set to load up a van at 11am to leave, and at 10:59am it started to pour. Great. I had my raincoat packed, though, just in case, and we braved the cats-and-dogs weather.<br />
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We drove for a little while through the outskirts of Tallinn, talking with Richard, our tour guide, and getting to know the other 7 people on the tour. Oddly, there was a group of 5 Canadian school teachers who had only just met one another because they happened to all sign up for some tour package through the Baltics and had been thrown together to travel for the past 8 days. It was just a weird Canadian coincidence that they were all teachers.<br />
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Our first stop on the tour (it was our second stop overall because everyone was hungry and asked to stop at a convenience market to buy some snacks) was the <a href="http://www.best-of-european-union.eu/2010/11/08/jagala-falls-the-biggest-waterfall-in-estonia/">Jagala Waterfall</a>. I was expecting something really grand because this is supposed to be the largest waterfall in Estonia. They call it the "Niagra Falls of the Baltics" for crying out loud. This is it:<br />
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A HUGE Waterfall, right?</div>
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Well, not too huge. Kinda not so big at all, in fact.</div>
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But it's taller than me, so it wins!</div>
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In asking about the falls, I did learn that they're usually much larger, but that there's been some drought conditions lately and that it's always biggest in the spring with the snowmelt. Mostly, though, the tides make the biggest difference in the size of the waterfall. We showed up at low tide, so the falls were small. Had we been there later or earlier, at high tide, the whole shelf would have been falls, not just the little part we saw. Weird, right?<br />
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Our next stop was an old manor house that had belonged to one of the ruling German royals during the 17th century. It hasn't been inhabited for a long time and is falling into disrepair, but can be yours for the low, low price of 1 million euros! (Our tour guide estimated it would be another 3-4 million euros to renovate the place and bring it up to being habitable again.) Also, it's apparently a haunted manor house. The ghosts get thrown in for free!<br />
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Some local kids in the art school made ghosts and put them inside the manor house windows. Since no one really owns it right now, no one has cared to move them out.</div>
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After the manor house, the weather started to clear and we were able to go through with our hike through the big swamp. Lahemaa is right near the Baltic Sea and has lots of marshland and swamps and bogs (is there a difference between those three things? I don't know, but I like all three words). There's a narrow single track walkway to help tourists make it through the swamp without ruining their shoes. It was really beautiful.<br />
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Heading into a quagmire</div>
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There were some pretty pools throughout the swamp</div>
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They built a big watchtower in the center of the swamp so you can see further</div>
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It was an odd landscape, and strangely beautiful</div>
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There is one big pool that's really deep near the end of the swamp, and locals all go swimming there. The water seemed clean, but was really dark. It was still too cold for any of us to jump in.</div>
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After all the walking and talking we'd been doing, we were all hungry (even those who stopped for food at the convenience store). We stopped at a traditional Estonian roadside tavern and ate some delicious food. <br />
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Estonian Cracker Barrel?</div>
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After lunch we drove by a renovated manor house. This one charges a hefty admission fee, though, so we contented ourselves with some clandestine photos from outside the gates and skipped the tour.</div>
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Last of all, we headed out to the beach. It was a breathtaking spot. The mainland winds out to a little spit that becomes an island during high tide, but has a narrow path you can follow out to the end during low tide. Our tour guide said he used to start this tour with this beach and would walk out with his groups to the end of the spit, but that after he got two tours stranded out there during the tide change his bosses won't let him take people out to the island any more. He said it's really silly because you can actually walk back, as long as you take off your shoes and don't mind getting wet up to your thighs. We just looked out at the island, though, and didn't risk the walk. <br />
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You can see the island in this picture: the little stand of trees in the back left</div>
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Apparently the big rocks are boulders deposited by glaciers at the end of the last ice age</div>
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I don't know what I was doing here, but one of the Canadian teachers took this picture for me</div>
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I came back into a dried-off Tallinn, and after resting for a little bit, took off wandering the city some more. I spent the evening in the common room at the hostel, talking with a Dutch girl, an American girl, 4 Norwegians, and a Portuguese man. The Norwegians decided quickly that Norway is the best country in the world because they've got the best drinking songs. They then proceeded to sing all of their drinking songs to us, punctuating their cheers with chugs. I ran into the group again in the morning, as I was getting ready to go out for a run and they were coming back from the bars. I think I liked my variant better than theirs.<br />
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My hostel was just on the corner on the right, smack-dab in the middle of the old town. Pretty decent location, I think.</div>
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</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-21904582040597760922012-07-22T12:02:00.001-04:002012-07-22T12:02:19.920-04:00Tallinn-- A Seriously Cool City<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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On Thursday morning I left Helsinki for Tallinn, just an hour-and-a-half ride across the Baltic Sea. We landed in the Estonian ferry port and I headed into the Old Town to find my hostel and get settled in. It was a beautiful day, and I spent the better portion of it just wandering around, completely enchanted by the medieval buildings. I visited Tallinn once before, in 2006 during a short break from classes in St. Petersburg. That visit happened in February, however, so I kept my aimless rambling to a minimum that trip.</div>
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Just after arriving in Tallinn</div>
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The main square in Old Town</div>
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Tallin's medieval wall, now complete with handicraft dealers</div>
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Old Town, Tallinn</div>
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Tallinn has, I've learned, the longest, most complete medieval wall in the world. The red-shingled rooftops are incredibly beautiful against the sparkling blue Baltic when viewed from the (one) hill in town. <br />
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Skyline of Tallinn</div>
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Now with me, in true self-portrait style!</div>
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I took a tour of the city on Friday, led by a very bubbly and entertaining college student, who made sure to poke some fun at the Estonians and all the nations that have conquered Estonia at one point or another. Even she was a little at a loss for words, though, when we came upon this wedding of a young wedding couple at the Russian Orthodox church at the top of the hill:<br />
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Just what every bride dreams of: getting a wedding photo taken with Shrek and Donkey.</div>
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I could have walked through the city for days and days. I did, in fact, do a lot of walking. It's a good thing I did, too, because Tallinn has a fantastic cafe culture, with a different cute boutique coffee shop on each corner. And I just wouldn't be a very good, responsible tourist if I didn't test out a cup of coffee and chocolate rum cake at each one, now would I? So, yeah, I ate a lot of cake. Good thing I walked a lot, too, to counteract it.</div>
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The Katherine Passageway</div>
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Another view of the city wall</div>
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The Tallinn Flower Festival was ongoing, and local landscapers had all set up cute little concept gardens all around the outside of the wall. This one looks like it belongs in a Chilko household, doesn't it?</div>
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The flower festival just added to the beauty of the city</div>
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And I just realized that I haven't loaded up all of my pictures, so stay tuned: I've got more pictures from Estonia coming soon!</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-50391058258623156332012-07-20T04:39:00.001-04:002012-07-20T04:39:58.900-04:00A little more from Helsinki<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I had a great time in Helsinki. I managed to do a ton: I took a sightseeing tour, I went to three different museums, I ate Napoleon cake at a cafe that's famous for it, I went out to the sea fortress and toured it as well as a WW2-era submarine, I ate sausages (made of moose, reindeer, bear and wild boar) at the harbor, I bought fresh berries, I walked around the city... it was a surprisingly relaxing 3 days, given all that I did. </div>
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Here are a few more photos of Helsinki!</div>
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The front of the train station square</div>
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The Kappeli restaurant in the promenade</div>
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Fountain that is the symbol of the city</div>
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Helsinki harbor</div>
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Old market building</div>
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Helsinki Cathedral, on Senate Square</div>
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Crazy clouds out over the Baltic</div>
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The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paavo_Nurmi">"Flying Finn"</a> near the Olympic stadium</div>
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Then, on Thursday morning, I woke up bright and early (and it gets bright very early in Helsinki--the sun rose at about 4:30 every morning) and caught a ferry to Estonia. Here are two pics of my last views of Helsinki, both before the boat left the harbor and before my eyelids snapped shut for the duration of the ride.<br />
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Goodbye, Helsinki!</div>
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The Estonian flag waving goodbye to Finland as we headed out over the water for Tallinn</div>
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<br /></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-41595677954272169522012-07-18T01:42:00.001-04:002012-07-18T01:42:25.931-04:00Helsinki Days 1 & 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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First stop on my trip after Georgia is Helsinki, Finland. I had rain on my first day, but have had nice, clear weather since. Here are a few pictures of what I've been up to!</div>
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View of the Caucasus from my airplane</div>
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Goodbye, Caucasus!</div>
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I got set up at the campground in Helsinki before the rain hit. Thankfully, my tent is waterproof. (You can see it way in the background, the little brown-and-red tent.)</div>
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Cathedral on Senate Square, with a statue of Alexander 2 of Russia in front</div>
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Sibelius monument</div>
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Floating market near the open-air market</div>
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Open-air market. Note the large quantity of delicious berries for sale. </div>
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Today's Special of 4 kinds of sausages was too intriguing to pass up</div>
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Here it is: reindeer, bear, moose and wild boar sausages over fried potatoes and onions, doused in lingonberry jam and spicy mustard. Amazing.</div>
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Self portrait on the ferry out to the sea fortress, Suominlinna</div>
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View of Helsinki from the ferry. Dark clouds rolled in but it stayed pretty much dry all day on day 2.</div>
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The sea fortress</div>
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Dry docks in the sea fortress</div>
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Beautiful beach on the island of the sea fortress</div>
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Not a self portrait!</div>
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One of the 5 submarines that made up the great Finnish submarine fleet of WW2</div>
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Inside the sub</div>
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The sea fortress island was really gorgeous, even in spite of the dark clouds. The cool church tower in the middle also doubles as a lighthouse.</div>
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Some street art near the Finnish National Museum. Not sure what it says or whether the bird is dead or knocked out.</div>
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Ceiling inside the rotunda at the Finnish National Museum</div>
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Finnish Parliament</div>
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Main train station in Helsinki</div>
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If they don't have it at Stockmann, you don't need it.</div>
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Cool wooden entryway</div>
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Sunset on day 2. I took this picture at 10:25pm.</div>
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<br /></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-50689101268744866742012-07-15T04:13:00.003-04:002012-07-15T04:13:50.176-04:00Saying Farewell<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My last full day in Akhalkalaki was Thursday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spent the last several days running
around, trying to see everyone one last time, saying goodbyes, drinking lots of
coffee, eating lots of sweets, and generally being reminded of all of the best
aspects of my life in the Peace Corps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There were, of course, lots of difficult goodbyes to be said as the end
approached, but some of the most difficult ones were reserved for that last
day.</div>
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One of my English teaching counterparts, Gohar, informed me
that she had planned a trip for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I went to her house at 11am and we piled into a taxi with a friend,
Kristina, and enough food to carry us through three days of hiking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our destination was the next village
over from Akhalkalaki, where we’d meet with another friend, Melania, and then
hike out to some old churches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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You couldn’t have asked for a prettier day, or more perfect
weather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every now and again, we’d
turn a bend and peek out at Akhalkalaki from between the hills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each of my senses battled to demand my
full attention: the overpowering smells of the earth, the wildflowers, the
freshly mowed grass; the spectacular, breathtaking landscapes; the birdsong and
babble of the river. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was too
overwhelmed by the moment to focus on my reality, of having to soon say goodbye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The setting was so enrapturing that I
could get lost in each second of the hike, as opposed to being lost in thoughts
of leaving.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve included some pictures here that do a lousy job of capturing
much of the feeling of the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Back from the hike, I went to another counterpart’s house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anaida lives near our host family’s
house and has frequently had me over, ostensibly to lesson plan, but more
realistically to feed me lots and lots of delicious food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thursday was no different (except that
we were by no means going to be planning for any lessons).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After saying goodbye to Anaida, with
heavy heart and full stomach, I headed back home, for one more big meal and
many more sad farewells.</div>
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Armine made dolma for dinner and Shushan, Marianna’s mother,
made a giant, delicious cake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
sat around the table for hours, eating, being coaxed to eat more, talking, and talking
about past and future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had a
moment where I thought we’d all start crying, but my host grandmother, Emilia,
defused the situation by looking up at us all, teary eyed, and saying, “Just
think—Melissa won’t be here to buy bread for us in the morning any more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who’s going to go to buy the bread?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ridiculousness of her focus on that
aspect of my leaving made us all laugh, and the crisis was averted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I ended up staying up too late on Thursday, checking and
rechecking that I’d packed everything up, talking with Armine and Akop and
Shaen, and just dealing with the huge amounts of caffeine that I consumed in my
last day of being feasted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Waking up
on Friday morning at 5am was, however, easier than I expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess the nervousness of taking off
on the next adventure kept me from sleeping too soundly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loaded into my final marshrutka from
Akhalkalaki to Tbilisi, rubbing away sleep and trying to keep the tears at bay,
and said goodbye to the town that’s become like home.</div>
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</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-49535219603168365252012-07-14T12:15:00.002-04:002012-07-14T12:19:58.502-04:00Going on a Picnic<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">(I had mistakenly believed this post to be posted already... sorry for the delay!) </span></div>
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Getting everything set up for our picnic at Tavshanka</div>
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On most week days, our host dad Akop only gets home from work around 7pm. On Monday <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">(July 2)</span>, the weather was clearer and warmer than it has been in Akhalkalaki for about 2 weeks, so Akop came home early and the whole family surprised me with the news that we were going to Tavshanka for a picnic. </div>
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Tavshanka (sometimes called Tashvanka; people here tend to transpose consonant clusters, especially in place names. So "Tiflis" as Tbilisi is in Armenian often becomes "Tilvis" in local Akhalkalaki Armenian) is the little hill at the edge of town, covered in trees and sidled up to the river. It's a really pretty place, and the go-to location for any kind of outdoor activity in Akahlkalaki. (It was the location for the summer camp that Sam and I helped out with when we first came to town, and the place where we'd go to walk around when we needed some green.) </div>
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A pretty little spot for a picnic, no?</div>
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Some nice views of Abul</div>
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Lilit and Shaen helped Akop get the fire started, both by supervising the work and by collected pine cones to throw in </div>
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We got started off pretty well, although it was cool by early evening when we arrived. We had dressed warmly enough for the weather, so we started up the fire, got things in place and got the grilling started. Soon the winds picked up, though, and we were wishing for some extra sweaters as we clung to our picnic gear and food, trying to keep them from taking flight. The kids huddled in the car, trying to keep warm, while the adults got the food ready as quickly as possible. And though the scenery was pretty, as soon as everything had cooked and we'd eaten the warm barbecued veggies and meat, we piled back into the car and made our way to Armine's mother's house to finish off our feast. Lala (Armine's mom), supplemented our dinner with tea, coffee, cake and fruit (as if we'd needed any more food!) and having a warm, wind-free spot to continue our eating was much appreciated. Shaen appreciated it so much that, after stuffing himself, he promptly fell asleep on the floor of the living room. After making our way back home, I quickly followed suit (although I managed to make it to bed before keeling over). <br />
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Armine supervised the veggie skewers. I helped by eating lots of the fire roasted veggies.</div>
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Lilit, mugging for the camera</div>
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Seriously, how cute is this kiddo?</div>
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Shaen ain't too far off in the cutie-pie category</div>
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Shaen was practicing patience, although not too successfully, as the food was prepared</div>
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Lilit staked out the best spot, right next to her grandma, Emilia, who gave her the best pieces of food as soon as they came off the fire</div>
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So even though the weather didn't cooperate entirely and even though it was a little crazy getting food prepared and then packing it all up again and moving locations, this picnic was one of the best possible ways to spend an evening. Having all these fire-roasted veggies (peppers and tomatoes and eggplant) reminded me of how much I'm definitely going to do this at home. </div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-78768754227017315772012-07-04T00:48:00.000-04:002012-07-04T01:25:52.869-04:00Distractions, Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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With SELF camp done, I started the long trek across the country back to Akhalkalaki. If you try to go directly from Kobuleti or Batumi to Akhalkalaki, it involves at least three bus changes (actually, there is a direct bus, but the driver seems to only go when the spirit moves him, so it's not especially reliable). However, I think even the most serendipitous traveler couldn't find a way to make all those connections on schedule and do the trip in a day. Knowing that it'd be a tough slog to make all my buses, I decided to break the trip up, first stopping in Kutaisi for one last visit. </div>
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I arrived and headed straight to happy hour. One of the great PCVs in Kutaisi, Tami (with whom I stayed while visiting), has an adult English conversation group that meets three times a week. To make things more interesting and attract more native English speakers for her students to meet with, she holds one of those meetings at a bar or outdoor cafe. It's a fantastic idea, really--the students (all adults) get to practice English in a real-live setting, with lots of English speakers around (all are required to sit Georgian-American-Georgian-American); it's a way of sharing a bit of American culture, by explaining what happy hour is and why Americans go out for happy hours; and it's a great way for the other PCVs and Americans (or other native English speakers) in Kutaisi to get a little bit of that feeling of normality, of home, speaking English and drinking a beer. After a week at SELF camp, I certainly was pretty happy with the arrangement.</div>
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Tami and another PCV stationed just outside of Kutaisi, Josh, had planned a weekend adventure, and I was invited to tag along. We spent Saturday traveling around to monasteries and churches that were pretty inspiring and inspired, to say the least. First was the women's Mghvimevi monastery (just try to say that one time) in Chiatura, about an hour and a half from Kutaisi. </div>
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Mghvimevi from the street below</div>
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The view of Chiatura from out front of the monastery</div>
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Inside the cave part of the monastery</div>
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It was nice and cool inside the cave church</div>
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Inside the stone church there were a lot of really well preserved frescos from centuries ago</div>
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A ceiling fresco</div>
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You know it's a good, serious monastery because they have skulls on display</div>
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We walked from the monastery back into the center of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chiatura">Chiatura</a> and had some lunch at an outdoor cafe near the river. Chiatura was a major manganese mining town, and some production is still ongoing. The look of things on the outskirts of town reminded me a little of Granville. After lunch, we headed out for more monasteries. First up was the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Katskhi_Monastery">Katshis Monastery</a>.<br />
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Katshis Monastery--it was a pretty unique shape for a monastery in Georgia</div>
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Statue outside the 11th century Katshis Monastery (notice the wine <i><a href="http://www.kvevri.org/en/index.html">kvevri</a></i> in the background; I guess this monastery isn't entirely atypical for Georgia)</div>
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Our last stop on the monastery tour was the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Katskhi_pillar">Katshis</a> <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1360114/The-high-church-Chiatura-really-IS-little-bit-closer-God.html">Pillar</a>. I'll let you look at the pictures, rather than explaining it. I'll just say that going to the church would really be a test of your faith.<br />
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Katshis Pillar</div>
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Me and Tami, with Katshis Pillar in the background</div>
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Closer up picture of the pillar</div>
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Wanna get up to the church? Go ahead--climb this metal ladder! (Only men are allowed to go up, or I totally would have. Totally.)</div>
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Another view of the pillar</div>
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On Sunday, we spent some time resting and relaxing, and I met up with a bunch of other PCVs in Kutaisi to take pictures of them exercising (more on that later). Given how hot it was in Kutaisi, sitting in a park, eating ice cream and drinking cold coffee was a great way to spend the day. Monday I was planning to head back closer to site, stopping in Akhaltsikhe. I was persuaded to take a side trip for one more Kutaisi adventure in a cave called Prometheus. Josh, the PCV who went with me and Tami to Chiatura, works at the Prometheus Cave, and told me he could give me a private tour on Monday, when the site is closed. I couldn't say no to that, so I headed off to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsqaltubo">Tskaltubo</a>, a small suburb of Kutaisi that had been a big Soviet <a href="http://tskaltuboresort.ge/index.php?page=1261&lang=eng">spa</a> resort town. Josh knows a lot about caves (he worked as a geologic hydrologist or something like that in America), and kept saying that <a href="http://www.imereti.ge/index.php?lang_id=ENG&sec_id=107">Prometheus</a> was world class. He said it would be a shame to leave Georgia without seeing it, so I decided to risk not catching a direct marshrutka in order to see it. It was incredible. Look on below.</div>
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Headed down to the cave entrance</div>
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An incredible Karst cave</div>
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Seeing caves like this helps me really imagine how dinosaurs existed</div>
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In addition to being really freaking cool to look at, it was nice and cool in temperature in the cave, too</div>
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Pretty sci-fi, huh?</div>
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I loved this--on emerging from the cave after nearly 2 hours (it's a huge freaking cave), blinded by the sun, we come out to see the big "National Parks of Georgia" signs, right next to a bunch of cows. There are cows in every single national park in Georgia. Even the caves. (Well, next to the caves).</div>
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And, in typical Georgian fashion, things somehow worked out. The walk from the bus station in Tskaltubo to Prometheus cave is about 4 miles, and it was hot and I had my backpack. Josh usually can flag a ride or catch a bus, but on that Monday, there were no takers, so we just walked, stopping to pick blackberries or plums from trees and bushes that grew over the fences every now and again. Just before arriving at the bus station, a car stopped to give us a ride. It was already after 1pm (the scheduled time of my bus departure), but we were grateful for a lift and to get out of the sun. The car was actually headed into Kutaisi to the bus station, so they gave us a ride all the way there. Even though I arrived at 1:35pm (a full 35 minutes past scheduled departure time, mind you), my direct bus to Akhaltsikhe was still sitting there. And, praise the lords or serendipity, it was right next to an ice cream vendor. 10 points to Georgia, for letting me see an amazing cave of wonders, pick fresh fruit on the walk back, catch a ride with some friendly Kutaisians, make it back in time to take a direct bus, AND still have time for an ice cream (actually, I ate 2). Win.</div>
</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-10826508806737670032012-07-01T03:28:00.000-04:002012-07-01T03:28:13.227-04:00Distractions, Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Right after Sam left Georgia, I headed off to the west coast of the country for one final visit. I spent the weekend watching the clouds over the Black Sea (there were some wicked storms), sitting on the rocky beach, running along the boulevard, and talking with friends. It was a good way to distract myself from Sam's absence. I needed the distraction because I really, really have been missing him.</div>
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This isn't our first time apart. Heck, we spent our first several years together in long-distance mode. But these past two years have been like make-up time for all the goodbyes and waiting and apartness. I think the closeness of everything for married couples in Peace Corps means that we all come close to driving each other crazy during our first weeks and months. From our Pre-Service Training, when we had 4 hours of language class together daily (try learning three new languages with a loved one in a super-intense class with only 3 other members) to all of the time spent trying to avoid the cold winters (we watched all 7 seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and maybe a few other pop culture gems), we really weren't able to get away from one another for long during these 27 months. If you make it through the crazy-driving moments, though, I think PC service is a time when a couple can become closer than ever. Thankfully, that's what happened with me and Sam. Our time in Georgia was made even happier, even that much better, even that much more cherished because we got to spend it together. </div>
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I know, awwwwww. Right? </div>
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So in planning for Sam to head off a month before me, I wanted to make sure that I had my initial minutes and hours and days occupied with something big, something that would keep me occupied. The thought of saying goodbye to Sam when we'd barely been a foot apart from each other for months was tougher to deal with than I expected. So it may be due to some temporary insanity that I agreed to be a counselor for SELF Camp in Kobuleti. </div>
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Stormy skies over the Black Sea</div>
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The view of Batumi from the top floor of the Radisson Blu in Batumi</div>
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Other side view of Batumi (looking out at the Sheraton and the sea)</div>
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Usually Georgia fares pretty well on the mis-translation scale, but "Technical Stuff" was just too good to pass up (in Georgian it actually says "Technical Staff")<br />
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Last summer I helped out the the GLOW camp, and I also like the SELF camp acronym, so I thought I'd give it a shot. GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) was a camp for teenaged girls to teach leadership, social responsibility, health, and self-esteem. It had some fitness components (we exercised every morning and discussed healthy diet and exercise), but was mostly focused on group work sessions and short lectures. SELF (Self-Esteem and Leadership through Fitness) dealt with many of the same issues, but worked towards reaching the ends through sports. We taught basketball, soccer, kickball, volleyball, frisbee, yoga, running and did a whole host of exercise sessions daily, lightly interspersed with a few short lectures here and there (scheduled for any times when it looked like everyone was going to keel over from exhaustion). Both camps were incredible--I remain amazed by all of my fellow PCVs. </div>
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The SELF camp had 40 campers, ages 13-16, 4 junior counselors (17 years old), 4 counselors (20 years old), and 3 PCVs to keep things in order (me, Amy and Emily). </div>
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I'll let those numbers sink in for just a minute. <i>40.</i> Ages 13-16. </div>
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I'm really not sure how we survived and held things together, but it worked out. Come the last day of camp, we had weeping girls, sad to say goodbye to their newly made friends, so I count that as a huge sign of success (ah, yes, crying children=success). The other success of the camp was that it helped time stay full and me stay busy and I didn't have a chance to get all mopey and missing Sam. Mission accomplished! Below are some pictures from the camp.</div>
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Girls participating in a "Human Pictures" team-building game. We gave each group a word (elephant, khachapuri, SELF, mountain) and had them make the word as a picture with their bodies. This group spelled out SELF (can you see it?)</div>
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Kickball rules were really hard to grasp at first (when you can't just say "it's like baseball, only you kick the ball, it's a lot harder to explain), but once they got it, the girls really enjoyed it</div>
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Running relays by the Black Sea</div>
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I taught some basic basketball skills outside before we headed to the gym to play</div>
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Amy led some very popular yoga sessions</div>
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And of course we had a dance party on the second-to-last night</div>
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I climbed up to the second floor to try to capture some of the shrieking excitedness of the dance party</div>
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On the day after the dance party, I was surprised that the girls were able to stay awake for the lecture</div>
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Some warm-up drills before the basketball game</div>
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Sunset over the Black Sea on the last night of camp</div>
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Just so you can fully appreciate the numbers. Look at all those teenaged girls. </div>
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</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-91201908064142610822012-06-29T07:59:00.001-04:002012-06-29T08:02:33.045-04:00Sam says goodbye to Georgia (for now)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sam said his final goodbyes to Georgia on June 15, and took off for his next adventures. It was tough saying goodbye (for him, for me, and for all the people who have made this experience so rich and wonderful for us). My own turn to say goodbye will come soon enough. But even though it is really difficult to face leaving, both Sam and I really do believe that we'll be back here in Georgia again before too long. We hope and plan to come back, whenever the stars align to give us enough free time and money to make it. <br />
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Here are some of the things we did in our last few days together here in Georgia, and many of the reasons we have already started planning our next trip back.<br />
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<b>Goodbye, Kortaneti!</b></div>
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Sam, signing Akaki's <i>bolo zari </i>(last bell) shirt</div>
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Sam with Akaki, in the aforementioned shirt</div>
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Sam and Zurab</div>
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Me and Maia</div>
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Me, Maia and Zurab toasting at lunch</div>
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The roses in bloom in Kortaneti</div>
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Tamila making <i>khinkali</i></div>
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<b>Goodbye, Borjomi!</b><br />
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Borjomi Park</div>
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A waterfall in Borjomi Park</div>
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Some pretty flowers on our hike in Borjomi National Park</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM9qJUPXWE9NEYtHDSUC5wcl4_2xUUwFXLHo7Yp5sz_B3DdhsyDVrlE7yS2IxvoiWljEfBcW6aR-Qy9hR1S4WSE2I9mUbQdSZCYJlf5UTufBZcOE804CP8O2A5Unjje6_EFykxnUGCtxQ/s1600/DSC02648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM9qJUPXWE9NEYtHDSUC5wcl4_2xUUwFXLHo7Yp5sz_B3DdhsyDVrlE7yS2IxvoiWljEfBcW6aR-Qy9hR1S4WSE2I9mUbQdSZCYJlf5UTufBZcOE804CP8O2A5Unjje6_EFykxnUGCtxQ/s320/DSC02648.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Me on our hike in the national park</div>
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The view looking up as we hiked</div>
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The view looking out as we hiked</div>
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The Green Monastery outside of Borjomi</div>
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Relics in the Green Monastery</div>
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Flowers planted outside the monastery</div>
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Stream on the way to the Green Monastery</div>
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Paintings inside the Green Monastery</div>
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<b>Goodbye, Akhalkalaki!</b></div>
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Farewell lunch with Sergei and Shushan</div>
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Farewell dinner with our host family (from left, Akop, Amalka, Emilia, Shaen, Armine, Lilit, Sam and me)</div>
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Mt. Abul shrouded in clouds</div>
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Sam with his bag (and Lilit showing how she was going to ride with Sam when he left)</div>
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The view from the road on the way to Tbilisi</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhkX2ggUgxRZPRHIydK0XEZDLVRwmGBIvhI2XXn5FL4WgU9iS6dbih4-escg-DA8i0wzmsyasjak73HFVIvd5k09tTKd_OqFhinVgHofruYZHKYHQAhnBQlVVKBtiPAU59DxTmtWsOhyphenhyphenk/s1600/DSCN2848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhkX2ggUgxRZPRHIydK0XEZDLVRwmGBIvhI2XXn5FL4WgU9iS6dbih4-escg-DA8i0wzmsyasjak73HFVIvd5k09tTKd_OqFhinVgHofruYZHKYHQAhnBQlVVKBtiPAU59DxTmtWsOhyphenhyphenk/s320/DSCN2848.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Goodbye, Tbilisi!</b></div>
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Looking down on the city one last time from the fortress</div>
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Sam in the fortress</div>
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Sam saying hello to the bees kept outside the church inside the fortress</div>
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Goodbye cookout for PCVs at the American Ambassador's house</div>
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Sam and Christopher at the Ambassador's cookout<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0000ee;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCynu77hWxQBK3TtesHen1YhtfKx0dGE8Xibz9tllxeHGE5NGrRz2p0cLYQ2_GuOt-lpzq7oWuf1AS7SPfWsdmCwDIy3E4MySw4xcOeaaB4HiGjl-w6HxjxOyOwX6FTP5GzrGA0Thngbk/s1600/DSCN2882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCynu77hWxQBK3TtesHen1YhtfKx0dGE8Xibz9tllxeHGE5NGrRz2p0cLYQ2_GuOt-lpzq7oWuf1AS7SPfWsdmCwDIy3E4MySw4xcOeaaB4HiGjl-w6HxjxOyOwX6FTP5GzrGA0Thngbk/s320/DSCN2882.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">Ambassador Bass, Sam, me and PC Georgia Country Director Rick</span></div>
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<b>Goodbye, Sam!</b></div>
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Sam on his last time in the Peace Corps office, with the Snickers bar that he was given on his first day in Georgia on April 28, 2010. Yes, he kept it the whole time. No, he did not eat it (call it the nagging wife effect or the it-was-already-1.5-years-expired effect). In the end, he decided to preserve his health so he can come back to Georgia again and again. </div>
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</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-63540469334396102862012-05-30T13:00:00.001-04:002012-05-30T13:00:29.464-04:00What we expected<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sam and I have spent the last several days and even weeks slowly paring down our stuff, washing our sweaters one last time so we can donate them, shifting books into piles of "definitely take," "probably take," "maybe take," and "are you sure these won't fit into our bags?" The process of unloading and trying to decide what we will keep and what we'll leave behind comes when it should, near the end of our 27 months of Peace Corps service. Sam leaves in 16 days; I'll be another month behind him in taking off. Having the piles to make and shift, the clothes to wash, the work with physical things, helps us keep our hands and minds busy, which is good because it's tough to think about leaving here and tough to think about readjusting to paying bills and following baseball again. But the work doesn't always stay the mind, and our thoughts have been all over the place lately. <br />
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A lot of our conversations have focused on what we expected and how far we missed the mark on our expectations. I've heard a lot of my fellow PCVs talk (and blog) about regrets and and failures in their service. I think we're all about at that point, thinking "I shoulda..." and that makes sense. <br />
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When I was applying for Peace Corps, going through orientation and even making my way through our intensive training, I had my expectations. I was going to learn a new language. Really well. I was going to finally make myself learn how to knit. I was going to have Sam teach me to play the guitar, and to speak some Arabic (because one or two new languages is never enough). I was going to write on this blog religiously. I was going to take lots of photographs. I was going to really integrate into my community and forge lots of lifelong friendships. I was going to travel to many new countries and all around the country I was placed in. I was going to stay positive at all times and really Make a Difference (in capital letters, of course, because it was Serious, How Dedicated I Would Be). I was going to write grants and receive money to implement amazing community development projects. I was going to make my mark. I was going to better myself in the process of bettering the world.<br />
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I'm sure that if I polled PCVs worldwide, I'd find that the ones who actually responded to the poll (we're pretty notoriously bad on responding to polls and surveys at this point, after 26 months of way too many evaluation forms and surveys) would have a list like mine of things they expected to do or to get out of their Peace Corps service. And, I'd be willing to further bet, that most PCVs on the cusp of heading home have been letting themselves get down about the things they failed to do, about the things they expected that never came to be, about their regrets. <br />
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On this front, I should add that a few months ago, a lot of PCVs here in Georgia were sharing <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/maya-lau/what-the-peace-corp-taugh_b_1099202.html">this article</a> about what one returned PCV learned about failure during her service. In a lot of ways, the article really rubbed me the wrong way. I think it jumps all over the place, on different kinds of topics that are all labeled in the end as failure (she talks of challenges, setbacks, celebrating small successes, not having unrealistic expectations, realizing that we are not perfect, and failure). As I begin the Serious Reflection Time myself, I think the article really does highlight some of the many feelings we all go through during Peace Corps. It's certainly true that we feel like failures in Peace Corps a lot. We have lots of time to ourselves with our thoughts and we go down the rabbit hole of regret more often than we should. I think this article, that was shared and exclaimed about by lots of us, emphasizes this, but it doesn't really emphasize how much of this is just us playing mind games with ourselves. I still don't think it's accurate to name these times when our expectations didn't align with our outcomes as "failure;" that's just life, whether in Peace Corps or elsewhere. Maybe it would be fairer to say that something about the nature of Peace Corps (as a major life-changing event) causes us to forget this. <br />
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Of the PCVs I've been privileged enough to get to know and work with here in Georgia, I can say with certainty that none has been a failure in any sense. Many may have regrets, but they shouldn't, not about the work they've done nor about the good they've accomplished. Some have excelled as teachers, getting students to care about learning English or start doing their homework. Others have helped their organizations gain computer skills or new equipment, or just how to hold office meetings that start on time and don't allow yelling. Some PCVs have written grants or started clubs or created resources that will continue to benefit their communities for years to come. Others have made friends with locals and been really able to share in cultural exchange. Still other PCVs have provided the support of their fellow volunteers that we all needed to get through the rough days, giving us shoulders to cry on, patiently listening as we complain about eating fried potatoes for yet another dinner. <br />
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We all came into this with our expectations, as any person does as they enter any new phase in life. The failure to meet these expectations doesn't equal failure overall, though. Maybe the most important things we can learn from our service are not to deal easily with our failure, but to recognize and celebrate our successes, no matter how small; to set reasonable expectations for ourselves and others; and to learn what it is that we are truly capable of. </div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-69928872609159377372012-05-26T09:10:00.000-04:002012-05-26T11:32:21.065-04:00Last Last Bell<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Last Bell Ceremony, Akhalkalaki School #2</div>
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The symbolic last bell, being run by a 12th grader and a 1st grader. Too bad it was all a tease--school doesn't actually get out for another month.</div>
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May 18 was marked the end of the school year for the 1st and 12th graders at schools in Georgia. It was the day of the much anticipated, much beloved "Last Bell" ceremony. (You may remember that the school year began with the "<a href="http://gokartli.blogspot.com/2010/09/back-to-school.html">First Bell</a>" ceremony.) Sam and I headed to our schools a little later than usual to watch the festivities.<br />
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My school's kids, all ready to celebrate! White tops and black bottoms were the designated attire for students, as per usual in important school events here</div>
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Sam's school's director gives a speech for their Last Bell, congratulating the 12 grade</div>
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A group of teachers from my school</div>
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As with any good school celebration in Akhalkalaki, there were the obligatory speeches by the director, teachers, students and parents, along with songs, dances, and readings of poems. This ceremony is an interesting one, akin to our graduation celebrations, but involving everyone from all grades. It's also different from American graduation in that it comes before final exams, before students actually learn if they've graduated. Other students (whom Sam and I hadn't ever seen before in any classes) return to school to join their class for the festivities, even though they dropped out of school 2-3 years earlier to start to work or to get married and start families (yes, that happens with unpleasant frequency here--in my school alone, I think I've had about 10 girls a year leave from the 9th-12th grades to get married). I've talked with lots of teachers and students alike about the Last Bell ceremony and everyone that I've talked with agrees that it makes no sense to hold the ceremony before the end of school (the rest of the grades, 2-11, continue with classes until June 15) and for all students in the 12th grade, even those who will not graduate or receive diplomas. On the other hand, nearly all of my interlocutors said that it is something nice for all students to be able to celebrate, regardless of their academic success. And it's a nice way for the students to officially say goodbye to their childhoods (even if, in some cases, they've already said goodbye). <br />
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Balloons were a nice idea, but not a second ticked by without at least two popping (or being popped) by some of the (I'm sure) very attentive and well behaved younger students</div>
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The 12th graders didn't have caps and gowns, but they did have nifty sashes</div>
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In any case, Last Bell represents another way in which Georgia and America have something in common while still having something different. We both want to celebrate the accomplishment of making it through school, to mark the end of school as a rite of passage. I do wish that American celebrations included more children dancing around with lit roman candles or setting off paper hot air balloons or releasing doves. Maybe Sam and I can bring some Georgian traditions back home with us.<br />
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My favorite performance included a group of 3rd grade girls, apparently dressed as wizards, dancing around with star-shaped wands to a song about stars raining down on us.</div>
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The symbolic releasing of doves was unexpected (at least by me). Luckily, no birds pooped on me.</div>
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Another dance number by one of my 6th grade classes featured some extremely unhappy-to-be-dancing-while-wearing-white-capes boys. I did not manage to contain my giggles during some of their dance moves. </div>
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Sam's school had some signs and decorations up for the day</div>
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His school also featured a traditional Armenian dance by one of the students</div>
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Towards the end of my school's celebration, the wizard girls came back out again and were each handed a gigantic, lit roman candle to dance around with. I thought that was a lawsuit waiting to happen until the 12th graders brought out the paper lantern/hot air balloons and lit them up</div>
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Sam's school had a hot air balloon, too. Fly free, paper hot air balloon! Don't crash and catch the school on fire, but otherwise, fly free!</div>
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</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-18874818550764035742012-05-16T09:24:00.002-04:002012-05-16T09:24:43.749-04:00Where do we go from here?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Today is May 16. Hard as it is to believe sometimes, Sam and I have been living here in Georgia for 25 months. The end of our Peace Corps service is now galloping towards us, and as hard as it is going to be to leave here, we're starting to also get that rush of excitement about heading back home. Leaving will mean wrapping up all the projects that we've put our time and effort into over the past 2+ years, and saying lots of goodbyes that I'm not actually prepared to think about yet. These approaching sad moments, combined with the sheer fear of the unknown that is the next step in the life after Peace Corps have made me put off thinking about the future in a lot of ways. But many of you have been asking us what we'll be doing and where we'll be going, so here's our breakdown, as far as we know.<br />
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Sam's got more concrete plans than I do. Here's what he'll be doing over the next 3 months:<br />
June 15: Officially close his Peace Corps service and depart for a 3-week archaeological field school.<br />
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What an archaeological field school may or may not entail</div>
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July 6-8: Spend 3 days in Kiev on a layover. I'm guessing he'll try the chicken.<br />
July 8-August 3: Spend 4 weeks studying German intensively in Vienna. Sacher torte will be eaten, and socks will most likely be worn with sandals.<br />
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Last year's Sacher torte</div>
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August 4-August 8: Travel to Copenhagen, Denmark. Hopefully there won't be anything rotten about it.<br />
August 8-August 17: Head to Iceland to see puffins (and baby puffins, which are apparently called "pufflings") and pretend to be a viking.<br />
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Puffin!</div>
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August 17: Arrive in Washington Dulles airport at 7pm. Drink some root beer.<br />
August 17-September 15-ish: Visit friends and family!<br />
September 15-ish: Move to Chicago.<br />
October 1: Start a PhD at the University of Chicago in their <a href="http://nelc.uchicago.edu/">Department of Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations</a>, focusing on Bronze Age Mesopotamian Archaeology. He'll study cuneiform, Sumerian, Babylonian and maybe dabble in Akkadian. There may be some digging in the dirt involved. I'm not sure exactly where fighting Nazis and learning to wield a whip fall in the curriculum. <br />
2022: Dear God, hopefully he'll be done with this PhD by now.<br />
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Soon, Sam will be reading these things</div>
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My plans aren't quite as focused, but here's what I've got so far:<br />
July 16: Finish my Peace Corps service and head out on a 2-week solo trip to Helsinki, Finland; Tallinn and Parnu, Estonia; Riga, Latvia; Vilnius, Lithuania; and Warsaw, Poland.<br />
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I'm hoping Tallinn is warmer this time around (all though, to be fair, February wasn't the best time to visit. On the other hand, Tallinn was a whole heck of a lot warmer in February than St. Petersburg was, so it made sense to go then)</div>
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July 27-ish: Meet up with Sam in Vienna. Eat some (ok, lots of) Sacher torte. <br />
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This year, I won't just order one piece</div>
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August 4-8: Copenhagen<br />
August 8-17: Iceland. Try to resist the urge to smuggle home any pufflings.<br />
August 17: Arrive in Washington at 7pm. Drink some beer and eat some Chipotle. <br />
August 17-September 15-ish: Visit family and friends and eat. And eat. And eat. <br />
September 15-ish: Move to Chicago. Hopefully find some employment. <br />
November 3: Run a <a href="http://monumentalmarathon.com/">marathon</a> in Indianapolis. 'Cause, why not?<br />
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Will they make t-shirts for this one? Is the pope Catholic?</div>
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So that's what we've got right now. If anyone has any other suggestions, give us a shout. And if anyone has any meaningful, productive employment in the Chicago area that they might want to offer to a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer, let me know. </div>
</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-7936872864253151422012-05-12T03:33:00.000-04:002012-05-12T03:33:45.902-04:00Go West<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Wednesday, May 9 was a holiday here in Georgia, so we got the day off from school. (It's <a href="http://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D0%94%D0%B5%D0%BD%D1%8C_%D0%9F%D0%BE%D0%B1%D0%B5%D0%B4%D1%8B">Victory</a> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victory_Day_(9_May)">Day</a> for Soviets, but I learned it as being <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victory_in_Europe_Day">Victory in Europe Day</a> in my high school history class.) Sam and I wanted to make one more trip together out to the west of Georgia before he heads off (our next post will be all about next steps), and we each only have a few classes on Mondays and Tuesdays, so we made a loooooong weekend out, leaving for <a href="http://gokartli.blogspot.com/2011/03/lot-of-happenings-travelings-and.html">Kutaisi</a> (our third trip to the <a href="http://gokartli.blogspot.com/2011/08/sataplia.html">city</a>) on Friday after school. We spent Friday evening and Saturday tooling around the city, loving the warm weather and green everywhere. We stayed with another PCV, Tami. She's only been in Kutaisi for a year, and Kutaisi is the second largest city in Georgia, but it seemed like every 2 minutes she ran into another person that she knows. She's obviously been a winner at integrating into her community and doing all the great things that PCVs are expected (and hoped) to do!</div>
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There's an impressive new fountain in Kutaisi that was opened for <a href="http://georgianamerica.com/eng/news/kutaisoba_to_be_celebrated_on_may_2_1799">Kutaisoba</a></div>
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An old Kutaisi <a href="http://www.kinokultura.com/specials/12/ochiauri-independence.shtml">movie theater</a>, apparently celebrated as the birthplace of Georgian cinema</div>
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Me, a new Kutaisi statue, Tami and Caitlin</div>
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On Saturday morning the weather was so beautiful that we decided to go out to the <a href="http://heritagesites.ge/?lang=eng&page=220&news=807">Motsameta</a> Monastery just outside of Kutaisi and walk around and soak up some more greenery. When we visited a neighboring monastery last year (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gelati_Monastery">Gelati</a>), there were hiking trails that purported to lead between the two monasteries. We were hoping to find the trail pick up from the Motsameta side, but had no luck. Regardless, we walked in the woods some, saw a wedding party entering Motsameta and had a really nice time overall.<br />
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Me and Sam enjoying the beautiful weather and green scenery at Motsameta Monastery near Kutaisi</div>
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Motsameta</div>
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The view from the Monastery</div>
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On Saturday night we hopped a marshrutka for a village, Dimi, about 30 minutes from Kutaisi to stay with another PCV, Caitlin (she's up in the picture above). Caitlin came to visit Sam and me in March because she'd been itching to start a fitness club for girls at her site since arriving, but faced some challenges and wasn't quite sure how to attack the project. While she was in Akhalkalaki, she came to my <a href="http://gokartli.blogspot.com/2011/04/akhalkalaki-girls-and-womens-fitness.html">fitness club</a> and picked my brain about how we worked things out here, which helped her to get back to Dimi and start her own club. On Sunday, I got to go with her to her club's meeting, where 8 girls from her 8th and 9th grade classes showed up to jump, run, do sit ups and push ups, and just have a good time while exercising. Caitlin has done a fantastic job and walking around her village it was clear that she's had a huge impact there already, too.</div>
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A beautiful spot just near Caitlin's host family's house in Dimi</div>
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Dimi</div>
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Dimi's summer hot spot, the river (Caitlin is a former college swimmer and lifeguard, so her community definitely benefits from having her there in the summer!)</div>
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On Monday, our hooky day, we left the Kutaisi region behind to head to the coast. We arrived in Batumi on a foggy, drizzly mid-morning, found our hotel and did the only sensible thing one can do when arriving into <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adjara">Adjara</a>. <br />
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First things first in Batumi: eating an <a href="http://www.thefreshloaf.com/node/10347/georgian-cheese-boat-breads-adjaruli-khachapuri">Adjaruli khachapuri</a></div>
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After surviving the cholesterol bomb that is an Adjaruli khachapuri (but seriously, these things are delicious--just don't eat more than one a year), we went walking around to burn off a fraction of the butter-cheese-egg-dough goodness. A lot has changed in <a href="http://www.expobatumi.ge/buildingdesign/?p=batumi">Batumi</a> since we've been in Georgia, and a lot is still <a href="http://www.fotiadis.net/archives/projects/the-trump-tower-batumi">under construction</a>, so we saw a lot of new things or things previously obscured by torn up roads or scaffolding. Sam said (and I think he's right) that it'll be interesting to come back to Batumi in another 2-3 years and see what the city looks like then. </div>
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We wandered through the "zoo" and past the biting zebras</div>
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Then we spent too much time with Sam being freaked out by the pelican...</div>
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...which is understandable, because look at those soul-stealing eyes! Gaaaaaghhh!</div>
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In the museum of Adjara we wished they had a gift shop with the old town flags </div>
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Every time Sam sees or thinks of something that would have made our wedding better he says we need to have a second wedding. So far, our second wedding will include an accordian, Elvis Costello, Chipotle catering and these outfits.</div>
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Cool, weird new building in Batumi. Looks like it's either plotting world takeover, or belongs on the MIT campus</div>
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Beautiful Batumi</div>
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On Tuesday, we had plans to continue our travels into mountainous <a href="http://www.ajaraheritage.ge/index.php?lang=en">Adjara</a>, but we managed to sneak in a visit to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gonio">Gonio</a>, a town just a few kilometers from Batumi that boasts an old fortress. I'm so glad we made it, because it was definitely worth the trip. (Mom, Dad and MaryBeth--I'm sorry we didn't take you here when you came to visit! When you come back to Georgia, you can be sure to go.)</div>
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Gonio fortress, outside of Batumi</div>
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Sam, looking at archaeology</div>
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Fortress ruins</div>
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Pipes!</div>
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Fortress walls</div>
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What's a Georgian ruin without some old wine vats?</div>
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I'm hoping Sam can one day find a little clay cross-eyed dude, too!</div>
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Little castle crawl space</div>
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After a quick turn-around in Batumi, we loaded back onto a marshrutka and headed up away from the sea and into the mountains. Our first stop along the road was a village called Makhuntseti, where a PCV from our group, Jen, lives. Jen has set the bar high on community integration--she recently got married to a Georgian man she met from her village! They're a wonderful couple and have a fantastic plan--they'll be heading to America when Jen wraps up her service (his immigrant visa paperwork just came through yesterday, on Jen's birthday--that'd be a tough present to top!), and have said they want to spend 2 years in America so they're on equal footing, then they'll make a decision about where they want to live, in Georgia or America. </div>
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In Makhuntseti, in addition to seeing Jen again, we wanted to see the big attractions, which understandably draw tour buses. First, there's the waterfall. Now we've heard some stories here and there in Georgia about places having incredible waterfalls and then shown up to find a little trickle. This waterfall was impressive, though, and Jen says it's a godsend in the hot, humid summers, since it's always cool and nice sitting by the bottom of the falls. The other big site is a reconstructed stone arch bridge, that's really beautiful. Jen says it scares her in the summers because kids jump off the bridge into the river and the men like to have some evening wine drinking on the far side of the bridge, walking home across it after imbibing. </div>
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Makhuntseti waterfall</div>
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This was a serious waterfall, and none of my pictures seem to do it justice!</div>
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Makhuntseti bridge--guardrails are for wimps</div>
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After too-short a time catching up with Jen, Sam and I piled back onto a marshrutka to head a little further up the mountain to the next town of Keda. Tom, another PCV from our group, has just finished one of the <a href="http://tomspeacecorps.blogspot.com/2012/04/two-year-anniversary.html">biggest-scale projects</a> our group has attempted. He raised funds and built a fitness facility at the local sports school for folks in his community to use. Cooler still, he's convinced the facility's manager to dedicate two nights a week for use for women only. Tom, being a male volunteer, asked me to come to run a training for the women on the benefits and importance of exercise. I held the training on Tuesday evening for 13 women and girls, discussing exercise and health and showing the group 10 exercises they can do at home with no equipment on days when they can't make it to the fitness center. I think it went really well, and I loved the community. Tom's hard work and dedication have really paid off and energized people in Keda, which was really great to see.</div>
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Keda was another really pretty Adjaran town</div>
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Wednesday morning came too quickly, and we had a long road ahead of us--a 1 hour marshrutka ride from Keda back to Batumi and a quick change to another bus for a 6-hour marshrutka ride to Akhaltsikhe, followed by one more quick change to a third and final marshrutka for our last hour-and-a-half ride back to Akhalkalaki. It was a tiring way to finish up our journey, and we'd had a busy couple of days, but it was a trip well worth the efforts. I have been, and continue to be, absolutely impressed and amazed by my fellow Peace Corps Volunteers, and was excited and proud to be able to see their sites and projects and help out a little.</div>
</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-12712392552927383062012-05-06T09:26:00.002-04:002012-05-06T09:26:36.604-04:00Kazbegi and Ananuri<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Mt. Kazbegi and the village of Stepantsminda</div>
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At the beginning of May, Sam and I headed up from Tbilisi to the Georgian village of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stepantsminda">Stepantsminda</a> (St. Stephen). This is a big destination for tourists of all stripes. It's got beautiful hiking, challenging climbing, tall mountains, unique plant and bird life and, maybe the key attraction, it's not too far afield from Tbilisi. Minibuses go regularly, north up the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georgian_Military_Road">Georgian Military Highway</a>, through some striking scenery that winds up and up through the Caucasus. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Kazbek">Mount Kazbegi</a> is the big landmark (and most people refer to the area just as "Kazbegi"), a 5000+ meter dormant volcano right near the Russian-Georgian border that dominates the skyline (when it's not too foggy to see). </div>
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When we got in, we had some light rain and lots of fog, so we did the the logical thing--stopped into a restaurant and ordered some khachapuri and limonati. (Limonati is usually translated as "lemonade," but is actually just a carbonated fruit-flavored cola. Some of the most common flavors in Georgia are pear, lemon, grape, and tarragon. There is a brand called "<a href="http://www.kazbegi.com/?sec_id=9&lang_id=ENG">Kazbegi</a>," but this was surprisingly not the brand carried in the restaurant we went to in Kazbegi.)</div>
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Sam, checking out our hiking route as we waited on our lunch</div>
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After lunch, our skies cleared enough for us to risk the climb. We headed out for a hike up to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gergeti_Trinity_Church">Gergeti Trinity Church</a>. Like most Georgian churches, Gergeti Trinity is impossibly sited. Situated at the top of a cliff-hill with Mt. Kazbegi in the background, it's hard to imagine a more beautiful spot. It's so pretty, it's often used as the cover model for books about Georgia (it's the cover picture for the current <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1741044774/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_1?pf_rd_p=486539851&pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_i=0864426801&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=15DZBEP83JAKC2KXTZWQ">Lonely Planet </a>on Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan). </div>
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We started our hike by scrambling up to the ruins of a watchtower</div>
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We really thought we'd get rained on as we climbed</div>
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But we made it to the church!</div>
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There are some really intricate carvings and masonry on the church</div>
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Around the church were more hiking trails, but many were still closed by snow. Others led up to some prayer spots, where people light candles and say prayers.</div>
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A blustery (but thankfully rain-free) self portrait</div>
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We waited around up at the top of the hill near the church for a while before hiking back down, thinking all the time that it would rain. Finally we gave it a shot and ambled down another way, happily running into a group of Swedish bird watchers who were excited photographing a bird. </div>
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As we came down to the bottom, we saw the cows hanging out right near the butcher's shop. Cows aren't the smartest animals, are they? (The sign by the door just says "Meat")</div>
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At sunset shy Mt. Kazbegi finally started to come out from behind the clouds for us to see (just a peek)</div>
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On Sunday morning, the sky was clear and we finally had some of the beautiful views that the area is famous for. We spent some time walking along the Terek River bank, soaking in the pretty weather and craning our necks up for another look at the mountains.</div>
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Finally, a picture worthy of a book cover!</div>
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The sun rose, cresting over the mountains on the other side of the village</div>
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Not sure what this head is, but it looked pretty cool</div>
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One more look of the village and its surroundings</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCUyP91MUs_O38kLz_7Z1QNXRuIH_Sy2LbmrVk4VLCjYMmxGNgWIYUEztezWZ8LRRrtwBmDd1_ACFdfheT_iK2cWLnptnAKKjYYYl5Hzwg0zz9RSXasf6by04kJ1VrikshCjITZkZJACM/s1600/DSCN2739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCUyP91MUs_O38kLz_7Z1QNXRuIH_Sy2LbmrVk4VLCjYMmxGNgWIYUEztezWZ8LRRrtwBmDd1_ACFdfheT_iK2cWLnptnAKKjYYYl5Hzwg0zz9RSXasf6by04kJ1VrikshCjITZkZJACM/s320/DSCN2739.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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By midmorning, we had to leave Kazbegi behind. Our last minibus from Tbilisi to Akhalkalaki leaves at 5pm, and we didn't want to miss it. The drive back toward Tbilisi, which had been obscured by rain clouds on our way to Kazbegi, was almost as impressive as anything else we saw. </div>
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Sometimes the landscape was almost lunar</div>
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Other times it was Antarctic</div>
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But it was always impressive</div>
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I was glad our driver didn't take any of the bends too quickly and that we didn't go careening off any cliffs</div>
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We did a short pit stop. The women were selling homemade churchkhela and pastegh, as well as knitted socks and hats</div>
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About 40 minutes away from Tbilisi, we got off the bus to see <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ananuri">Ananuri</a>, an old castle/church complex. Again, we really thought we were going to be rained on, but our luck held out and we just had a moment of sprinkles before the rain passed.</div>
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Impressive even from the road, but it gets even better inside</div>
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The walls had Georgian squiggles engraved on them</div>
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Lots of cool masonry work here, too</div>
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There's a pretty impressive reservoir below the Ananuri</div>
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It was (I think) a beautiful combination of reconstructed, still-standing, crumbling, and tumbled-down</div>
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The towers of the two churches against the friendly, thoughtful rain clouds</div>
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Everything was so lush and green</div>
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We wandered down towards the banks of the rivers by the reservoir...</div>
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...in order to take one more happy self portrait without rain</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPIoI2qSD6Q2rRyZL_cRH19vhzTlQOUOWT0A80B1iYDqyYXH6Sz_FwY7i-oKiCQW-Y6DHjrPhka0Op2kjZZ3YR4sQFPvs3FfcrNuGEW21l8Jc2j7nN_nuRDZJUTPsOPZZZYP2cMAOEhw/s1600/DSC02516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPIoI2qSD6Q2rRyZL_cRH19vhzTlQOUOWT0A80B1iYDqyYXH6Sz_FwY7i-oKiCQW-Y6DHjrPhka0Op2kjZZ3YR4sQFPvs3FfcrNuGEW21l8Jc2j7nN_nuRDZJUTPsOPZZZYP2cMAOEhw/s320/DSC02516.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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Back up in a tower of Ananuri</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTpmNtsViF9so6y-5iGhfJOjEXnFyMFSGy4MNPbsDOW0KEA9bjUN3rR25g8jcjQvDl5rOMOSgyOdWNYy5eP6xLdKnWc5Ai5jqzdEBIxfwS_EoQvUyAMOoiC9fJJYw7I71y2PCqAhrJhPk/s1600/DSC02495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTpmNtsViF9so6y-5iGhfJOjEXnFyMFSGy4MNPbsDOW0KEA9bjUN3rR25g8jcjQvDl5rOMOSgyOdWNYy5eP6xLdKnWc5Ai5jqzdEBIxfwS_EoQvUyAMOoiC9fJJYw7I71y2PCqAhrJhPk/s320/DSC02495.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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This was the view I was looking at</div>
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There were some incredible frescos in the church</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHARfiVGozv3fvG72hwI8EdYH3-SNtXJr7jzF-8mA8sPDhZpPOY0roOmOub7fskcYJKZcl0BX5kYOnJQUIAgUoo9AUitwCoe_rbG3z1hysUCU57yahEJUMkkCEgy1XeK8Vp7TulXHP2kQ/s1600/DSC02506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHARfiVGozv3fvG72hwI8EdYH3-SNtXJr7jzF-8mA8sPDhZpPOY0roOmOub7fskcYJKZcl0BX5kYOnJQUIAgUoo9AUitwCoe_rbG3z1hysUCU57yahEJUMkkCEgy1XeK8Vp7TulXHP2kQ/s320/DSC02506.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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When we'd had our fill of Ananuri, we waited patiently for another minibus to come take us back to Tbilisi. And we waited. And we waited. Tons of kids showed up at the castle for a performance of some sort. The vendors selling souvenirs outside of Ananuri wandered over and asked us if we didn't want to sit at their booths and rest some. We waited. Finally we caught a ride back to Tbilisi, just in time to eat a quick dinner and catch our bus back to Akhalkalaki. A trip well worth it!</div>
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</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-6308521382959369122012-05-03T14:00:00.001-04:002012-05-03T14:00:17.727-04:00A few random recent pictures<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Well, I had big plans to write a nice blog post all about our trip last weekend to Kazbegi, but got bogged down in way a lot of projects and visiting and so on and haven't gotten around to it yet. In the meantime, here are a few random, mostly unrelated pictures we've taken recently, none of which would probably get around to getting a full blog post, but all of which are still worth sharing!</div>
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We went to Ninotsminda, the small town/village 20 minutes south of Akhalkalaki a few weekends ago to visit with some other volunteers and got to sit in on a performance of little drummer boys.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbbGCEev_XQnFwxBEOxG91qQhMg40VldFF2izJLq4OOmr0JL9Y3HrdySV-edBaQlYQEF97KNoAUTz0DiLbU_5ukuXS_qRsq0NaAoxRlM7XBmL2jGt60EDl3hALhbpk_4ecW_27H3O5uqA/s1600/DSC02430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbbGCEev_XQnFwxBEOxG91qQhMg40VldFF2izJLq4OOmr0JL9Y3HrdySV-edBaQlYQEF97KNoAUTz0DiLbU_5ukuXS_qRsq0NaAoxRlM7XBmL2jGt60EDl3hALhbpk_4ecW_27H3O5uqA/s320/DSC02430.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Even though the sky was threatening rain (and dropped some on us, too), we hiked out across a big field at the edge of town.</div>
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In Akhalkalaki, I bought a Coca-Cola with a Canada Dry cap. I wish they sold ginger ale here! I have no idea where this rogue cap came from.</div>
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Tbilisi is already bright and green, and this guy just doesn't know what to do about it. </div>
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In an ice cream shop in Tbilisi (gelato, actually), I peer pressured Sam into buying a sundae called "Hot Love." It was way pricier than our usual double scoop cones, but was tasty and worth it, if only for the picture</div>
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April 24 was Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day, so people in town all went to the church to light candles and put out flowers near the memorial. I went pretty early in the morning (like at 11am or some extremely early hour like that), so the pile of flowers wasn't too big yet, but by evening (when I'd left my camera at home) the whole churchyard was littered with flowers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBFNEEgM3z_G1qTxk7dpxb6p1XajYXSKNhlt06aJD3zlv_3dD9B4zEsmPfYh_-il_snxea93jWicbfO9T-381RGRypCslngqbdjJzcaX02gjsF0wj43sqPmoV1VtLqTHDlcQSH0V2AFk/s1600/DSCN2716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBFNEEgM3z_G1qTxk7dpxb6p1XajYXSKNhlt06aJD3zlv_3dD9B4zEsmPfYh_-il_snxea93jWicbfO9T-381RGRypCslngqbdjJzcaX02gjsF0wj43sqPmoV1VtLqTHDlcQSH0V2AFk/s320/DSCN2716.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-29520414866770698822012-04-28T11:10:00.001-04:002012-04-28T11:13:01.840-04:00Spring Break Armenia, Days 5-6<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0EdSWg_ZjV0-13gj8vVSweF6qlPLhhIgMcEwtRcB9RvnoFGutJ6QXPFcmLWpRvKCz2XedZ31mayxuTJyQhevPAxaIJAV4WfMT1nlrPnBIxe9OF3GuBnQNxI8eVkC7EUnDouSvkIxSH2U/s1600/DSC02403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0EdSWg_ZjV0-13gj8vVSweF6qlPLhhIgMcEwtRcB9RvnoFGutJ6QXPFcmLWpRvKCz2XedZ31mayxuTJyQhevPAxaIJAV4WfMT1nlrPnBIxe9OF3GuBnQNxI8eVkC7EUnDouSvkIxSH2U/s320/DSC02403.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Day five in Armenia started off with a teeny tiny
kitty. Sam made fun of me for a
while based on the way I acted, but look how cute this thing is. (He specifically referenced <a href="http://xkcd.com/231/">this</a> comic in doing so.) Teeny tiny animals just aren’t fair and
no one should be held responsible for the stupid things they say when
confronted with a teeny tiny animal. Also, yes, this kitty was eating its breakfast from a plastic bag. No further comment.</div>
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While our guidebook had tempted us into taking some extra
journeys by bus or taxi around the area of Dilijan to see <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Molokan">Molokan</a> villages or
more churches or monasteries, the beautiful weather convinced us that a nice,
relaxed, long walk was a better way to spend the day. We stocked up on some picnic supplies and walked 6
kilometers up to the ruins of an old church called <a href="http://www.armeniapedia.org/index.php?title=Jukhtak_Monastery">Jukhtakvank</a>. That one was a mouthful to get out as
we asked locals if we were headed in the right direction, to be sure. As we got up to the ruins, we saw a
sign informing us that we were at the beginning of a 4-5 kilometer nature trail
through Dilijan National Park that would be well marked and take us past
another really old ruined church. </div>
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We did find the ruins, despite the hard-to-say name</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6MXwmrj_D4c6Th-UlGmsOot1n_zGzIxRcKNvlfrLup83BDAOwf62LhkFy3lS8zSTDVmQFl5DNeMFRVfL6NDelrnyjOyGwrfs8ipIm5hzwOnP3Shmj6g6lyU3V7UVmWrkek_iLZZHRHY/s1600/DSC02407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz6MXwmrj_D4c6Th-UlGmsOot1n_zGzIxRcKNvlfrLup83BDAOwf62LhkFy3lS8zSTDVmQFl5DNeMFRVfL6NDelrnyjOyGwrfs8ipIm5hzwOnP3Shmj6g6lyU3V7UVmWrkek_iLZZHRHY/s320/DSC02407.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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A map!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWzfNTsX9KdMBrtawQ5MtFxR3m5LbH609rYqtXFa5lpO4po0jbq_hc2-lW416r_nvonYy8un3teijbdYN9yPUGe03XVlPESpZ72J0_q3WlPiXibMGB9lrzxYNKWrosvZYNubO13Lf13YM/s1600/DSC02408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWzfNTsX9KdMBrtawQ5MtFxR3m5LbH609rYqtXFa5lpO4po0jbq_hc2-lW416r_nvonYy8un3teijbdYN9yPUGe03XVlPESpZ72J0_q3WlPiXibMGB9lrzxYNKWrosvZYNubO13Lf13YM/s320/DSC02408.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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We could tell it would be way prettier in a few more weeks, when all the trees turned green, but the weather was just perfect</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgak9D3IyYDoOA7YTUUU7G_iREL8JjFNKz423Z8je2px2aTAgg4xAH5-9mtK1mvjbhYzu9YLTi9PvQrvq0PXz0OiSIF3jUEnr7BupAp2-babGnekMG_fkMMUVu0JXIsDYxzHuEsyOhpO5U/s1600/DSC02409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgak9D3IyYDoOA7YTUUU7G_iREL8JjFNKz423Z8je2px2aTAgg4xAH5-9mtK1mvjbhYzu9YLTi9PvQrvq0PXz0OiSIF3jUEnr7BupAp2-babGnekMG_fkMMUVu0JXIsDYxzHuEsyOhpO5U/s320/DSC02409.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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This was a very cool thing. There was a sign next to this that said it was a nature bed, and inviting us to just stretch out and really let nature sink in, to listen to the birds, to look up at the sky, and to smell the smells. All parks need this!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB82IDgGCWrCYG9r5n4wA2DItvT4jUnb81KZUUntsfszv7Ts9tvjtCtgTnvDkc79ioogRm4KubV-iLtqWCMcmtK_fC0akIDmM675q4PrRcQK1VwZc35XAeFQ2-9R2JZluBDtkMUBwlcpY/s1600/DSC02411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB82IDgGCWrCYG9r5n4wA2DItvT4jUnb81KZUUntsfszv7Ts9tvjtCtgTnvDkc79ioogRm4KubV-iLtqWCMcmtK_fC0akIDmM675q4PrRcQK1VwZc35XAeFQ2-9R2JZluBDtkMUBwlcpY/s320/DSC02411.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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Pretty sky</div>
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We picnicked at this nice shaded table, looking out at the valley below</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFh-xdbAo9Ka8RtLYb7eDe2R7rd9CKNpAZ7SJJESZUNMLZZkd-pBdSFCj6Yu652gOpnFA7fY2r9eOI_QEgTHZvVQ3IcXrlQol780dgU5tPW64_q-a1QcKGMf8mbzvVyzbDJw2uucIMkro/s1600/DSC02416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFh-xdbAo9Ka8RtLYb7eDe2R7rd9CKNpAZ7SJJESZUNMLZZkd-pBdSFCj6Yu652gOpnFA7fY2r9eOI_QEgTHZvVQ3IcXrlQol780dgU5tPW64_q-a1QcKGMf8mbzvVyzbDJw2uucIMkro/s320/DSC02416.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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There was just this one questionable crossing point</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJP7SU_pyA7GDXaSiAH5noLuKCyVj8lQO8v6TdXUPkNaXGj0oZOkKI3GaD0SztQusTokBi-G_T66u-2YLVUpSyKSgLTt_SJWdN6OqIqGqfZF5c5ImecbN_SE8eK_U4-jNXyeLPQim_K4g/s1600/DSC02420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJP7SU_pyA7GDXaSiAH5noLuKCyVj8lQO8v6TdXUPkNaXGj0oZOkKI3GaD0SztQusTokBi-G_T66u-2YLVUpSyKSgLTt_SJWdN6OqIqGqfZF5c5ImecbN_SE8eK_U4-jNXyeLPQim_K4g/s320/DSC02420.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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The final ruined church at the end of the hiking trail</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugrkEhP3YW2XjdjoknY7ybRaXsGSeoz5DRcrVTs4KSHqcRcaG-sisJbN8HJqqcLHw2RIQ0iAu_r7RPcklmhzPiaHWWYfUrY8VTV9qAEucaOZ7_EBZWq3QIarB_yPIR5aVJ1ZMdVOVUe0/s1600/DSC02422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugrkEhP3YW2XjdjoknY7ybRaXsGSeoz5DRcrVTs4KSHqcRcaG-sisJbN8HJqqcLHw2RIQ0iAu_r7RPcklmhzPiaHWWYfUrY8VTV9qAEucaOZ7_EBZWq3QIarB_yPIR5aVJ1ZMdVOVUe0/s320/DSC02422.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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Boy was the walk the right call. We hiked our way along, constantly remarking at our luck on
the weather. It was gorgeous
out. Our long hike left us happily
tired and we made it into Dilijan just before dinnertime. We ambled along through the remnants of
a kids park/fair/amusement park and up to the rather impressive and cool World
War Two monument. After thoroughly
wearing ourselves out, we headed to a nice Armenian restaurant in the newly
restored old town and sat out on the balcony watching the sun set. </div>
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World War Two monument in Dilijan</div>
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Broken down kiddie coaster </div>
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Another view of Dilijan</div>
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The restored old town</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh42fm3dyt0Xng_U7Xl-0ZZcBYu-5VfYgRA7jvFJNXV94eRDmoHxQGMFFm67MqhGYZWY8FaeRqg4x0sY72Zv-q20caKfcQUbpZL5Owb0Wbdo64NAwuqwV_qeo4bnGzS2RpNnVodzPwNnRo/s1600/DSC02428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh42fm3dyt0Xng_U7Xl-0ZZcBYu-5VfYgRA7jvFJNXV94eRDmoHxQGMFFm67MqhGYZWY8FaeRqg4x0sY72Zv-q20caKfcQUbpZL5Owb0Wbdo64NAwuqwV_qeo4bnGzS2RpNnVodzPwNnRo/s320/DSC02428.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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Another look, restored old town in Dilijan</div>
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The next morning we got up early to start our massive
commute back to Akhalkalaki. We
took a rickety old bus that somehow managed to get started and move to a
neighboring town (40 kilometers in 60 minutes), where we managed to smell out
the lies of the taxi drivers (there aren’t any buses going to Gyumri! You’ll have to take a taxi! My taxi!)
and find a bus going to Gyumri, where we just had enough time to eat some lunch
before hopping on our minibus back across the border. </div>
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Inside bus number one... it was a close one, but we made it!</div>
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In all, it was a fantastic trip (as my obsession with
posting way too many blog posts about it probably shows), but it was again
especially rewarding to get a chance to really speak a lot of Armenian and feel
like we’ve accomplished some language learning here. We don’t really get too much of a chance to speak Armenian
in Akhalkalaki (or rather, I don’t; I guess Sam does at school). People know we know Russian way better
than we know Armenian, and it’s asking a lot to have the patience to listen to
us figure out what we want to say, when we can say it without thinking in
Russian. Also, in a completely
un-Peace-Corps twist on things, we really still have a hard time speaking the
local dialect of Armenian and are way more comfortable with the standard
literary language. It means that
even though we spent a lot of time and frustration in studying a language, I
often feel like I don’t know anything in it and get really down about things. Traveling to Armenia (where most people
tend to speak a language way closer to what we studied) helped me feel a lot
better about things. So in
addition to just having a great time, it was a feel-good experience that made
things overall better. Oh yeah,
and Sam ate a <a href="http://gokartli.blogspot.com/2012/04/spring-break-armenia-day-3.html">soft pretzel</a>. </div>
</div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-69238030271074950712012-04-28T10:43:00.000-04:002012-04-28T10:48:29.254-04:00Spring Break Armenia, Day 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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On our fourth day in Armenia, we headed a bit further
afield. We left Yerevan for
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dilijan">Dilijan</a>, a pretty little town nestled in the hills and mountains and boasting
more forest coverage than most of the rest of the country. After arriving in Dilijan and chatting
with our very nice guesthouse owner, Nina, we took a taxi ride to see two old
Armenian monasteries. First stop
was at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goshavank">Goshavank</a>, a very pretty old rambling complex of churches and a library. There were some extremely delicately
carved, intricate khachkars there, probably the prettiest we’ve seen. In a funny bit of
it’s-a-small-world-ism, we ran into two other Georgia PCVs who were also
vacationing in Armenia for spring break. (It was our second unexpected run-in,
actually; in Yerevan we randomly crossed paths with our host mom’s sister, who
came into town for two days to do some shopping.) We had a good time talking until their tour bus driver
started honking for them and they had to run off.</div>
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Goshavank</div>
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Really impressive khachkar</div>
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Thanks to our fellow PCVs for this pic!</div>
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Spring was already on its way...</div>
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So we did some good ol' fashioned sittin' and enjoyin'</div>
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The second monastery on the list of must-sees in Dilijan was
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haghartsin_Monastery">Haghartsin</a>, a beautifully sited place.
It was an interesting church-monastery complex to see. It was obviously very old, and rich
with history, but it was also very much a currently in use church, which meant
that it had been renovated to keep it usable. Of the two, I was more impressed by the look of Goshavank
and the surroundings of Haghartsin. </div>
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Haghartsin</div>
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Inside the monk's <a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/refectory">refectory</a></div>
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Not quite as impressive a khachkar as at Goshavank, but still pretty cool</div>
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There were lots of ruins all around</div>
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Lots of archaeology!</div>
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Back in Dilijan</div>
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We came back into the main part of Dilijan and wandered
around the town a little before heading back to our guesthouse for dinner. We sat and talked for a while with the
other guests, Erfan from Iran, traveling with his girlfriend Nora and her
mother. Erfan, it seems, is a big
traveler, working as a travel agent and tour leader. But his real thing is mountain climbing, so he showed us
pictures of some of his crazier travels and we really had a great time talking
and sharing stories. It turned out
that his love for adventure tourism is something he wanted to share, and had
convinced his girlfriend and her mother to do their big trip across the Caucasus
by hitchhiking. Nora’s mother
seemed remarkably good humored about the whole experience, although her first
question to Sam and me was “Are you traveling by hitchhiking too, or do you
travel like human beings?” </div>
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Nina (the guesthouse owner) had hosted Erfan on a previous
trip to Armenia and his extremely effusive personality made him a big hit with
her, so for our group dinner she had planned lots of special foods. Nora’s mother cooked an Iranian stew
dish, Nina’s husband Misha made chicken horovats on their special indoor fireplace-grill, there were lots of salads and
trimmings and homemade <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oghi_(beverage)">oghi</a> for toasting guests and hosts alike. Sam and I were tasked with lots of
translating, but really enjoyed it.
We joked that we had a mini-UN going on at our dinner feast. Nina and Misha and their family members
would say toasts or make comments or ask questions in Armenian (and sometimes
Russian), we’d translate it to English and Erfan would translate into Persian
for his girlfriend’s mother. </div>
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Getting ready for some feasting</div>
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Chicken horovats... mmmmm</div>
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Our mini-UN</div>
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Turns out that the day we chose for our trip and meeting all these great new people was also Efren’s 33<sup>rd</sup> birthday. Nora surprised him with a big cake, complete with giant roman candles burning on top. It was such a nice, unexpected part of our trip. Our bellies overfull with delicious food and our cheeks sore from smiling and laughing, we headed to bed.</div>
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Happy birthday, Erfan!</div>
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<br /></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-67992066207871343552012-04-24T02:20:00.003-04:002012-04-24T02:25:05.122-04:00Spring Break Armenia, Day 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Khor Virap</div>
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Our third day in Yerevan broke clear and bright, and we decided to go on another excursion out of town. This time we took a bus and headed south to a monastery situated smack dab on the Turkish-Armenian border. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khor_Virap">Khor Virap</a> is the name of the monastery, which literally means "deep pit." Sounds lovely, doesn't it? Well, it's so named for it's biggest feature, two deep pits under one of the chapels, in which <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Gregory_the_Illuminator">Grigor the Illuminator</a> was imprisoned by the Armenian king for 13 years. It's a long story, and involves the king of Armenia either going crazy or having his head turned into the head of a boar, but eventually the king let Grigor out of the pit, and got himself all baptized and Armenia became the first officially Christian nation, in 301. </div>
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The Yerevan train station, from whence our bus to Khor Virap departed</div>
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Self portrait in front of all the loveliness that's visible in the top picture. Unfortunately, it turned out looking like we just take self portraits in front of fields of dead wheat.</div>
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But once we stepped away, this was the view again. Pretty!</div>
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Now they have ladders to climb down into the pit, which is great because you don't get stuck down there for 13 years. </div>
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Sam made it back out in way less than 13 years</div>
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Khor Virap up closer</div>
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The main church building at Khor Virap</div>
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So Khor Virap is an extremely venerated and important church/monastery for the Armenian church. It's a big draw for pilgrims or visitors looking to climb down into Grigor's pit and light some candles in the church. But it isn't just the religious that draws folks to this place. Khor Virap is situated on a hill just a stone's throw from the Araxes River, which winds along the bottom of the mythical Mount Ararat (the big snow covered mountain you see in the picture). Ararat is a dormant volcano peak, a very tall 5137 meters or 16,854 feet. It's also the mountain on which Noah's ark is said to have come to rest. Ararat is much taller than any of the other mountains in the area, and on clear days is visible in all kinds of parts of Armenia. It dominates the Yerevan skyline. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Ararat">Mount Ararat</a> is the symbol of Armenia, and many, many Armenian households have the same painting of Ararat's greater and lesser peaks (Masis and Sis). There's a catch, though: Ararat may be revered and celebrated by Armenians as their symbol, but it now lies within the territory of Turkey. The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Araxes_river">Araxes River</a> basically forms the border between the two countries, closed acrimoniously since 1993 (as a Turkish response to the Armenia-Azerbaijan war in <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/country_profiles/3658938.stm">Nagorno-Karabagh</a>). So Armenians come to Khor Virap for just about their closest look at the mountain that has come to hold so much meaning in their culture. It seems to me that having the mountain just across the uncrossable border has probably done a lot to make it a more important symbol, and has endowed this place with stronger emotions and hatreds than would otherwise be the case. This is a big, big mountain, visible everywhere. Having it just out of reach makes it a something that's easy to grasp in a different sense, as a symbol of all the perceived injustices and the heights they reach. </div>
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Very Soviet-esque statue near Khor Virap. Looked a little like Stalin as a mountaineer.</div>
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Once we'd had our fill of traipsing around the countryside, we hitched a ride back up to the main highway. It was about 5 kilometers from the highway to the monastery, and while we were prepared to walk the distance, we didn't turn down the offer of two young men who pulled up alongside us and offered us a lift. They were extremely nice and excited that we spoke Armenian. As we approached the highway, they began to apologize profusely that they couldn't take us all the way into Yerevan. They wanted to, and would gladly, except that they didn't have driver's licenses and didn't want to risk driving on the main highway and getting stopped. <br />
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We said our goodbyes and waited alongside the highway for the next passing bus or minibus to take us back into town. It wasn't long before one pulled up and we were back to Yerevan. As we pulled in, Sam's eyes lit up at a sight we passed: a pretzel shop. Pretzels! Sam, as you may know, loves soft pretzels. It's been one of the things he's missed most here. So what did we do for lunch? You guessed it: soft pretzels. <br />
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Is that joy, or what?</div>
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Best day ever.</div>
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The rest of the day pales in comparison to soft pretzels, for sure, but we did get some cool pictures out of it. We wandered through the displays in the puppet theater, looking at the puppets, walked through town some more, ate really delicious <i><a href="http://www.armeniapedia.org/index.php?title=Khorovats">khorovats</a></i> and checked out a cool new-ish monument to an old Soviet movie. <br />
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Some of the puppets on display</div>
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The puppets really remind me of a lot of the Soviet cartoons and stop-motion animation movies</div>
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Hanging out with "<a href="http://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D0%9C%D1%83%D0%B6%D1%87%D0%B8%D0%BD%D1%8B_(%D1%84%D0%B8%D0%BB%D1%8C%D0%BC,_1972)">The Men</a>"</div>
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<br /></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7957205699048756989.post-89073902536788199082012-04-23T04:22:00.001-04:002012-04-23T04:24:18.841-04:00Spring Break Armenia, Day Two<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Garni Temple</div>
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On our second day in Armenia, Sam and I took a day trip out of town to see some other sights. We headed to the pagan temple at Garni and the Armenian Christian monastery at Geghard, both about 30-40 minutes' drive from Yerevan. We were joined on our tour by our host grandmother's cousin, Alexander. He's an engineer in Yerevan, and speaks English (and Esperanto!) fluently. He was excited to meet us after talking with Emilia (and us) a lot on Skype. It was nice to have a local travel with us.<br />
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We had worried that the weather might not be too good for a jaunt into the countryside, as the grey clouds covered Yerevan all morning and little outbursts of rain kept us on our toes. We lucked out, though, and the rain not only held off, but the skies cleared and we ended up with a fantastic day for wandering around old ruins.<br />
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Our first stop was to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garni_Temple">Garni</a>, an ancient pagan temple turned summer palace for the later Christian kings of Armenia. There are other ruins (of an old Armenian church, and other structures, like baths) around, but the main focus is the temple structure you see above. The landscape around Garni is really something, too, and once all those trees and flowers get into full bloom, I'm sure it was really striking.<br />
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The scenery around the Garni temple was just coming alive, but still breathtaking. We imagined that in another few weeks, after more buds had burst and green taken hold, it would truly be beautiful.</div>
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Not the most successful of self portraits, but you get the idea. We were there.</div>
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This is where the archaeologists stayed while excavating. Sam's setting himself up for the good life!</div>
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Our next stop was to the Armenian monastery of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geghard">Geghard</a>. The original site was founded by the founder of the Armenian church (and converter of the Armenian kings to Christianity), Grigor the Illuminator. The complex had the whole 9 yards: monastic caves, khachkars, a big ol' church, holy spring, courtyard, place for animal sacrifices. You name it, they had it. It was also just a really pretty, pleasant place to be. The church itself was incredibly cool inside, and it turns out that's not odd. It's main structure is apparently carved out of a single piece of solid rock from the side of the mountain it nestles against. <br />
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Monks gotta have their caves!</div>
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Lots of very cool old khachkars everywhere</div>
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Sam really liked the beehives, especially after he made friends with one of the bees</div>
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Inside the main church building</div>
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Lots of cool stone carving going on</div>
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It was pretty dark inside, though, with the only light making it in through the ceilings and a few darkly colored windows</div>
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Geghard Monastery</div>
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Sam with some khachkars</div>
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I moved just as Sam was surreptitiously taking this and made his picture come out blurry</div>
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Some of the very old khachkars had been painted red, and still had traces of the red paint</div>
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Outside the monastery, lots of women from the neighboring village were selling their goods: <a href="http://recipes.sparkpeople.com/recipe-detail.asp?recipe=205761">gata</a>, <a href="http://debbie-kwiatoski.suite101.com/fruit-pastegh-recipe-a38016">pastegh</a>, and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Churchkhela">churchkhela</a></div>
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As we approached, they all tried to entice us with their goods</div>
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We made it back to Yerevan in the late afternoon, happy with our side trip and ready to eat more food, of course! We tried out the Indian restaurant in Yerevan, which was delicious, and then got some ice cream to snack on as we strolled around the park near our hostel. There were lots of kids out biking, roller blading, and generally running around, enjoying the weather and the freedom to no longer be bundled up in winter clothes. The park was starting to get all set up for warmer days, with games and attractions popping up like crocuses.<br />
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This was the game I wanted to play, if only to try to win the stuffed John McCain doll in the right-hand corner. Unfortunately I didn't have any 100 dram coins on me. Next time, John. Next time.<br />
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<br /></div>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13703350995131384428noreply@blogger.com0