The roughest day to date

Spring is here... finally



Bareyan (left) giving me the huge horse thing.



The nurses. I was apparently the only one happy about taking the picture.



After the party. The teachers at Verin Getashen School #2.



The teachers yesterday when the historian came. Did I mention that I am going to be in the village archives. Im going to be in a history book. Count it.

Although I finished the last blog emphasizing the fact that not all the blogs would be depressing, it would be a lie for me to say this one will differ. For those who read my blog regularly (thanks mom and dad) you will know that I usually try to post once a week. This time, I couldn’t wait.

(I feel like Doogie right now)…

Anyway, today was the last day of school. Unlike last year, there was no fanfare. I didn’t get that memo. There was no fanfare because Armenia decided to make the school system go til the 12th grade. This happened to be the year the hopeful 11th grade students would not get their prayers answered, unless they were praying for an extra year of school. So, this morning, I woke up and put on my suit and walked to school. Once there, I waited… for three hours. The teachers would not let me leave so I just walked around the school with just the ninth graders present for their mandatory PE test. Yeah, I don’t get it either.

I went to the polyclinic at 1 because I wanted to take a photo with the nurses. One o’clock is when the nurses change shift so I knew that the majority of them would be there. I sat and chatted with them for a while. The nurses will always hold a special place in my heart, especially a lady named Kima, because she was always so patient with me, as in explaining what the other nurses were saying. I got a picture with them and went to the school.

Much like my sentiments toward Grandma, how do you put into words the thanks a collective group deserves for taking care of you for two years. I honestly don’t know if the American culture could emulate the hospitality Armenians have shown me over the last two years. I should be more specific and say Armenians in my village. That is the beauty and the downfall of America. Here I stand out like a monstertruck in a field of lilies. It is awesome. They know I am the odd one out so they always look after me. I am “their American”. However, in the States, in our “salad bowl society” diversity is as common as a lily in a field of lilies…

So, all the teachers sat down and the school director, Bareyan, gave the first toast to the students and the teachers. Awesome. The second toast, he thanked me for coming to Armenia and “helping” out the school. He presented me with a large plastic horse. I have no idea how I am going to get that home. (I may do what Brandon and I did on our Ireland trip and take pictures of the horse mysteriously showing up randomly in pictures…). He said some really nice things. The thing that started to tear me up was when he spoke about my Mom and Dad. How they could let their only son come all the way to Armenia for two years to do what he could for the village. They just went on and on thanking my parents.

I swallowed hard. I stood up. It was my turn to say something. I stood up. Looked around and said “I want to say this without crything.” Then I started crying. When the tears came, I said “give me five minutes.” Laughter followed. The teachers said my tears said enough and they understood. I said no. I stood up again. I took a deep breathe. I started crying again. I sat down. Then another five minutes went by. Bareyan said, “Danny, I will say something, then you can continue”. My response… “no”. I stood up again and said “maybe if I smile I will not cry.” It worked. I thanks everyone; Vardan, Arpine, Melcida, Silva, and Gyulum for working with me and helping me. I also thanked the collective teachers for everything. I spoke of memories we had and how the teachers made my life in Armenia easy and how they made my two years here go by so quickly. Two years is a long time, but I can remember like it was yesterday, saying goodbye to Jon and Whitney, Jon saying “we are going to just pretend we will see each other tomorrow” as they both left. Its already time to come home.

I continued by saying that next year a volunteer was going to come and to remember how awkward and strange I was, and how horrible my language was at the time and to remember how patient they all were to me, and how helpful they were to me. I ended by saying thank you again and saying that I was going to miss everyone and wouldn’t and couldn’t forget my experience in Armenia with them. Then the floodgates up Niagara Falls opened. I lost it. The teachers lost it. Very emotional. The teachers started saying toasts of their own. Mainly about my Mom and Dad.

I don’t know who reads my blogs. It could be just you, Mom and Dad. Maybe not. But whoever is reading this, I want you to know how awesome my parents really are. I got home and called my parents at 6am EST. I spoke to both of them. Mom, I know you were on the verge of tears and that’s why you gave the phone to Dad. But just the immense amount of support you have given me has been unspeakably amazing. Thank you is just a collection of words, but I don’t know how to show it. How can I show it? But thank you Mom and Dad for words of encouragement not only over the last two years, but throughout my life. Ill buy you McDonald’s when I get home…

As you can see from these blogs, saying goodbye is not one of my strong suits. It is just going to get worse on Sunday.

Tomorrow I move out of the village. My stuff is packed (sort of) and tomorrow morning Patrick is coming out to help me move out. My room is empty with just a heap of stuff in the middle of the room. But. Life is all about moving on. The experiences of today made me realize how much of a connection I have with the people in the village. I will certainly never forget them. I can’t. To stop myself from rambling on, I will stop here as it is frustrating for me to put into words my feelings toward what is happening here. I am excited about coming home, but those sets of feelings will just have to wait until the future.

I will leave with some pictures of some of the amazing people I have met here.

Until next time…