Don't Even Think of Being in a Hurry

My friend Brooke and I were on the Marshutney (Minivan that goes from city to city) and you just go sit down and then wait for it to fill up and then it will go. Well let me tell you that it just isn't that easy. OK so max the van will hold is about 16. Brooke and I will get in and get ready to go. Well in the Avtokayan (Car-place, basically place to catch marshutneys) there are these men and I have not really figured out if they are there for any reason except to make sure that people get into the marshutneys. Heaven forbid that the driver could take care of it.

As is everywhere in the former soviet union there are 3 people for each job (which makes no sense when most people who have public jobs all over the country have not been paid in over 9 months and the bribes certainly could not be so good that they can support every one) so it is confusing walking up to the place and being accosted by counteless taxi drivers yelling various cities but then you get into the parking lot is basically what it is and you walk to the designted bus... yeah there are signs both above the van and in the window of the van but for some reason there are 3 guys to make sure that the bus is full so then he can tell the driver to leave.

Well usually the driver is standing there smoking and talking, maybe eating shwarma. Well there are some men who won't sit down until the bus is about to go but then the guys don't count them so these guys will stand around smoking and every few seconds one of the seat maestros will pop his head in and look around to see how many people are there in the bus and see how many more he has to get in before it can leave....

so on this particular day there are 5 men standing outside not wanting to sit down. It is an hour-and-a-half ride from Yerevan to Gyumri, now there were 3 seats available, he sticks his head in and counts the people on the marshutney and subtraacts out loud....even though you can see 3-no counting required. He goes out and then tells the driver 3 left. Then he asks each of the men how many people they have with them then the conversation turns to something else. This went on for about 10 minutes then one of the 3 men or the driver discovers that we could be full and ready to go.

Well here comes the argument who is going to sit and who will wait for the next one. Another 10 minutes. Then they figure that out-mind you if you were to see the argument you would think that someone was goign to be killed-but this is the nature of the Armenian language and culture. So the three guys each pick one guy then one picks an extra, another fight, it is settled, and then there is the argument about who will sit where which makes since because some seats suck....

Well then all of a sudden every one is almost in well here comes my best friend and I didn't know it.... his name Aram like about 20% of the population but that is another story about names, there only being 5 per sex basically. Aram has one tooth on the top and strangely all of his teeth on the bottom. The seat next to me is empty and strangely enough I had to get the charming guy (with no teeth strangely there was a lot of food stuck in his teeth it seemed to come flying out, that lasted the whole ride) who well honestly smelled like he had been immersed in Vodka and was trying to drip dry and guess what Aram knew some english.... great! How convenient.

Well we had some small talk the whole time in Armenian then he asked if I was Armenian which is a loaded question considering that then I will have to remember all of the details of family, etc.... then He decides he now will start talking in English. Come to find out he had horovatz (basically shishkebab) for lunch. No he did not tell me I could smell it and see it flying out of his mouth. As I sat there convinced that I had a contact buzz from him he told me about Amatuer Ham Radio Operations and that he wanted me to become a member of his club and he wanted help with the transmitter.

Now I should have been able to remember that all you do is agree but I had to open my big mouth and try to explain that I cannot have anythng to do with any kind of transmitter in country, the whole intellegence undercover thing.... well that did not go over well so he told me about his "Crazy Tiger Wife." He wanted me and Brooke to come to his house and to tell his wife that we are his good American friends and that he is a big man in the Amateur Ham Radio community. I finally told him I was tired and fell asleep on Brooke's lap.

So as we finally wind into Gyumri and I see the driver preparing the bribe for the cops that sit on the outskirts of town I know we are almost home. I just have to figure out how I can get out of the dinner plans that were made while I was asleep, Armenians tend to be very hospitible sometimes militantly..... so as I am just staring at him trying to figure out how he can eat a shishkabob with one top tooth and trying to be subtle at brushing off the remainders of his lunch from my coat.... I just say to myself oh well just another day in Hayastan (Armenia in Amenian).