Is this how life has always been?

I've been living here for about a month. In some ways, it's been such a short amount of time. But in a big way, it's hard to imagine a life in which I drive a car, watch Henry run around with other dogs at Hendry's Beach, and eat avocados. Days here are very much the same, one blending into the next.

After simple breakfast with tea made by my sleepy host mom or sister, I walk to the mayor's office with my Peace Corps neighbor, Donald, down the dusty roads. We usually walk past young children on their way to school with their mothers -- the older students leave a bit earlier than we do -- saying hello to them all. My four classmates and I struggle and laugh and learn through language class all morning. Through our frustration, we consistently remind ourselves that though Armenian is very challenging, at least we're not learning English!

Donald and I walk home for lunchtime. We usually stick together because our host families are really all one big family and if one comes home without the other, we have to try to explain the missing one's whereabouts. On our walks, sometimes people will come speak to us for one reason or another. They try to speak English or Russian to us (Russian is the most common second language here, and is also associated with blondes), or invite us in for coffee (we have yet to accept an invitation because we're usually kind of in a hurry), or for other reasons we don't understand because they're speaking more Armenian than I know. On my walk today, a sweet, hunched-over old woman with many gold teeth stopped me and pulled my hair out of my face. She said a lot I didn't understand, but I caught that she said I was pretty and she patted my hip and said "lav" (good). As I walked away she called, "Goodbye Katy". I've met her a few times but never given her my name. I guess I'm kind of famous in my village, as are all of us Amerikatsis.

In the afternoons, we have training for our Community & Youth Development (CYD) jobs. This has been interesting and varied -- from panels of current volunteers and Armenian NGO representatives to lectures on the Armenian economy and geopolitics to practicum in which we are working with a local NGO.

There are a dozen or so children who live near me. Starting recently, they have made my evening walk home one of the most heartwarming parts of the day. They all either run to greet me with hugs, jostling to hold my hand, or yell "hello Katy, how are you?" from their front porches. They tell me lots of things I have absolutely no comprehension of, but they don't seem to mind my vague or non-existent responses much.

After dinner, I sit outside with my host family on a big cement pipe in front of the house. My host family is almost all women and girls, who come and go, sometimes bringing out coffee or taan (a drink made out of yogurt, water, and salt that is supposed to help you sleep) or sunflower seeds. Often, some of the many kids along the street will bring out a half-flat soccer ball and we'll play dodgeball (Armenian rules). I was never a big fan of the game in school, but here, it's one of my most favorite things. We shriek with joy when someone catches the ball, collectively groan when the ball goes into the gutter/sewer and has to be dried off, yell "Afto!" when a car approaches and "Kov!" to pause the game while a pair of cows goes by, trailing their chains and stakes home from the fields. A 7-year-old boy who lives across the street loves to hold my hand much of the time, which usually means I get out, but they quickly find a way for me to join the game again.

When the game finally dissolves, I usually go in to study, and then go to bed, ready to do it all again tomorrow.