Last Week's "Green Camp'

Growing Pains

Just came back over the weekend from another youth camp.  I saw some new parts of Armenia as the camp took place in the very northern part where you could actually see Georgia.  Although the geography was new, the heat was very  Sacramento-like and you could usually find the counselors under the nearest shady place.

This camp was a slightly different from the last one as the kids were a little younger (11-14) and as the name Green Camp suggests, it focused on increasing their understanding and respect for the environment.  The topics for the days ranged from the cyclical nature of "Water" to the "Pyramid of Life" to "Eco-Friendly Communities."  Some of the time was spent in the classrooms but the emphasis was on experiential learning through outdoor games and activities.   During the break time, the kids would drift into small circles to practice their volleyball skills or pair off with badminton rackets, a favorite of the girls in my town.  I even helped a handful of kids to get proficient at throwing a Frisbee…. straight.

As with the previous camp, the enthusiasm of the kids was delightful and kept our staff of 6 Peace Corps Volunteers and 6 Armenian Volunteers energized in spite of the heat.  When the activities of the camp concluded in the late afternoon, we only had a five minute walk from the school to the house of Volunteer who lives full-time in that village.  It wasn't long before the Americans were sitting in the shade, curled up with the current novels for the week, or taking a cat-nap on one of the many mattresses spread throughout the floor of the house…. and often completing the whole sequence!

Upon returning this past weekend to my regular site, I was excited to take my first hot shower in a week, re-discover the other modern conveniences of my bathroom and have my first good night's sleep in a week.  Not sure if it's just my age or the fact that I never did much camping as a kid, but sleeping on the floor/ ground leaves me tired the next morning.

Having experienced a "let-down" after the last Summer Camp, I thought this time I would keep an eye on my emotional state as I returned to a "semi-urban" setting.  It is hard to replicate the proximity to nature and the hospitality in a rural Armenian village.  On my morning walks to our Green Camp, I was often joined by the local turkeys out for their morning stroll.   And on the way back, it was easy to wind up in a neighbor's home.  The second evening there I was invited to the home of one of the neighbors I had met on one of my walks. First it was the traditional cup of Armenian coffee, then came plates of sliced peaches and sweets.  The visit was capped off by a spontaneous duduk concert by one of his nephews. (During our training a year ago, we had learned that the “duduk,” a reed instrument in the oboe family, was the pride and joy of Armenia.  The story goes that when James Cameron heard it for the first time, he knew he wanted it for the soundtrack for his new movie "Titanic.")  

Another time I walked two houses down to Mayor's residence to fill up a couple buckets of water and didn't come back for almost two hours.  The other Volunteers must have thought I got lost!   But my favorite moment in the evenings was when the neighborhood kids couldn't hold back their curiosity any longer and carefully stuck their heads in our gate.  It was a like re-run of Spanky and Our Gang with all the wide-eyed looks and bashful joy. 

All that being said, I was curious to observe my response to returning to my "semi-urban" setting, where I stay until August 2010.  What was it that led me to feel a let-down last time?  After all, I have made some good friendships and have often been the recipient of gracious hospitality here as well.  And besides, I had all the creature comforts of a comfortable bed and a hot shower.  What's not to like? 

It slowly occurred to me it had little to do with the people but really with the current  “growing pains” with the country's culture.  The values of consumerism are in full-swing and the guileless nature of village life will soon be a distant memory.  The comparison that comes to mind is with “teenagers” who confuse appearance with reality.  Having the latest songs on your cell phone or driving at high speeds seem to be goals that many residents in my town aspire to.  And when I travel to the capital the behavior is even more startling as the majority of the young women in Yerevan seem to be auditioning for Project Runway……… Hollywood Boulevard.   This seems especially strange in a society with very conservative and almost repressive sexual norms.   Any way you look at it, the cultural values and the behavior are not a good fit.

It would be much easier to accept if all the fancy cars and trendy fashions in the capital were the fruits of a healthy economy.   But there is no economy in Armenia to sustain this lifestyle, unless one of your relatives has a connection with the Russian Mafia.  At least in the rural areas, the villagers approach a self-sustaining life, growing much of their own food and bartering for additional services. They have no illusions about themselves and their lives are consistent with the values of the culture.

 The same cannot be said for the residents in the larger urban areas like my town.  Many of the new generation have absorbed from TV and the movies their version of  The Good Life.  And their cell phones make them part of that.  Few seem to consider how such a lifestyle is “sustainable.”  With 30% unemployment, many look to their families to support them, some to the government, while others have become very skilled at writing grants to get their slice of foreign aid.  But this pattern of seeking the solution outside of one's own initiative has the tendency to point Armenia into  becoming a Welfare State.  

    I wonder if Karl Marx would see the irony of the situation.  It is no longer “religion” but cell phones and fast cars that have become the “opiate of the people.”  While I find this very difficult to watch, there are surely sectors of the government and select families that control Armenia’s wealth who do not.  For the result is that most citizens are distracted from trying to change the stark realities of their country: that  democracy is but a facade and that the most qualified candidate being hired is but an illusion.    One can only hope that this will change in time.  It just won’t be any time soon.  Resignation is deeply imbedded in the culture and leadership and collaboration skills are sorely missing after 70 years of Soviet rule.  

In the meantime, we will continue to train the young people in their problem-solving, collaboration, and leadership skills.  They will surely need them for the steep climb up the mountain which is their future.

A Simple Twist of Fate

Yesterday I took a local min-bus to the Peace Corps office in Yerevan, Armenia’s capital. Part of my reason for the trip was to discuss a presentation we are making to the new volunteers on “Managing Stress.” My other reason was to pick up some more vitamins from the health office there as I have felt run down lately. On the bus ride in I could not help but think whether my recent fatigue was just a case of getting older or …. my own stress showing up. The Peace Corps doctor mentioned it was not uncommon to for Volunteers to go through a mid-service crisis.

I wasn’t sure what it was but I did feel a let-down after working as a Camp Counsellor for a week. Interacting with 50 teenagers all day for a week was a pretty high energy event. Then I started to think about the hike I went on a couple days ago. My young Armenian guide had described it as a 3 hour hike but we got lost in the forest and had to bushwhack our way out through the overgrowth. It turned out to be a 9 hour adventure and I slept very well that night.

So as the “marshutni” carried us toward the capital, I noticed my mind looking for answers, ruminating over “causes” and “effects” for being tired. Despite my daily meditation practice, I have discovered my mind is still habituated to figuring things out and looking for answers. So I just plugged in my earphones and laid back to listen to a bunch of old Bob Dylan songs, a gift from another volunteer leaving Armenia next week. Dylan's voice still had that scratchy sound I remembered from the 60’s but his lyrics seemed more interesting than I remembered. The next day I was to find my own “Simple Twist of Fate.”

When I awoke this morning back at my regular work site, I was planning to take the 9:30 bus to work. My Armenian tutor had asked to move our daily language lesson back an hour so I was enjoying the extra time to read and reflect. When I looked at the time, I suddenly realized I had only a couple minutes before the bus would arrive. One can get rather casual when the bus stop is right in front of your apartment. But as I raced out of my building, I heard the familiar roar of the engine and saw the backside of the old red bus chugging down the street.

I had a half-hour before I was due at the office and I thought the walk might be kind of nostalgic, as I used to walk every morning when I first arrived here. But then in November I moved into my own flat further away from the downtown area. That plus my first winter in Armenia was all I needed to adopt the bus as my new best friend. Since then I had reversed my pattern and walked home after work, enjoying the time for some physical exercise and a chance to unwind from the day.

Now the missed bus seemed like a good opportunity to "change things up" as I was feeling a little down, in somewhat of a rut. I had called an old friend in San Diego that morning but just got the computerized voice message. When I called my daughter after that, she was also not available but at least I got to listen to her voice on the message. Surprising how little things can make a difference when you feel a little empty.

Well, my walk to work today was the perfect medicine. I think part of my struggle was a sense that I wasn't doing enough. School was out for the summer so I wouldn’t see some of my students for a couple months. I missed the interaction with the five teachers at the Art School taking Introductory English class as well as college kids from the Business English class. Riding the bus to work and then sitting in my office for most of the day had begun to feel rather isolating..... and boring.

But it wasn’t long into my walk to work that I re-discovered my simple connection with the folks in our city. The first person coming down the sidewalk was a young man in his 20's who crafts souvenir pieces at a local gallery. Just his smile and a handshake was enough to lift my spirits. Then an older Russian man with twinkling eyes and a St. Nicholas beard greeted me from the other side of the street. I see him several times a week out sweeping the streets with a primitive broom and we always greet each other, although neither can speak the other's language. And there were the occasional strangers whose dour faces quickly became lighter with a simple "Barev dzez," the common Armenian greeting. By the time I reached the local tourist information center and the two young people that speak very good English, I felt the cloud over my head had blown away.

It was liberating to let go of my illusion that my value depended on something I did for the people in Armenia. I was actually the one in need and the gift of simply connecting with them was a wonderful way to start my morning. Or as Dylan would say, they dropped “a coin into the cup and of a blind man at the gate and forgot about a simple twist of fate.”

Youth Camp in the Country

Sometimes we all imagine how things might have been. I thought about joining the Peace Corps 40 some years ago when in college. I used to tell myself it was because I studied classical languages in high school and had no experience with spoken languages. But I think during the past 10 days working at a Youth Camp in a remote village I re-discovered the real reason. I imagine I knew I was not ready for those assignments in the early 60's to the remote areas of Africa and South America. I was ok with having just one lukewarm "bucket shower" while at the Youth Camp. But after ten days of using the outhouse with its wonderful fragrance and logistics, I was ready for my apartment. I was delighted actually to return to …. a shower and a toilet seat.
But despite that, the whole Youth Camp event was quite wonderful. There were 50 teens from 14-16 years old that were full of energy and joy. Some of us like me were teachers for three 50 minute classes a day (Leadership, Project Planning and Theater) and the other half of the staff functioned asTeam Leaders, motivating and coaching their groups of 10 in preparation for various cheers and competitive challenges. For many of them it might have been the first experience of working as a team. One could see the resulting growth in confidence and maturity. And having functioned as The Lone Ranger for most of the past year, I was also delighted for the interaction and support of teammates

The week overall was a good blend of learning and fun. The goal was to help them acquire some new life skills and to improve their English speaking along the way. But the journey was filled with much laughter and friendly competition. At the completion of every day, the kids were told the theme for the coming day. And the next morning the judges were ready to award the prize to the team who showed the most creativity for "Crazy Hat" or "Crazy Hair" day. Classes and lunch took up the late morning and early afternoon and by 2pm they were back in their teams preparing for the new Team Challenge for the day. Most of the kids were sorry to see the camp end but for me and several of the other counselors, we were "running out of gas." Riding home on the bus to my usual worksite, I couldn't help but remember that my best memories of my youth were those spent at summer camps. Funny how that works out.

Now I go back to tutoring English for the month of July and hopefully will have a chance to help out as a counselor at a "Green Camp" in August in another part of Armenia that I haven't visited yet. I imagine I should get my hot showers in before I leave as the joys of modern plumbing will most likely be absent again. Yet when I look at my photos and see the joy on the kids' faces, I am reminded what is really important.

New Group of Volunteers Arrive

Dear New Volunteers to Armenia:

In February of last year I was waiting for Amazon to deliver several books written by former Peace Corps volunteers who served in Africa. This was to the site of my two years of service according to the letter I received in mid-January. The books arrived and I devoured them quickly, anxious to discover what my new life would be like. Then in the middle of April I received another letter from the Peace Corps informing me that I was really going to Armenia. I think the Universe was hinting that this was not to be a journey of the head but one of the heart.

Yet I still spend the first couple months in Armenia trying to figure it all out. My brain was working overtime sort it all out. First there was this new language with the very strange alphabet. Then this was this confusing culture that was a strange mix of medieval culture and modern technology. There were satellite dishes everywhere you looked and yet you couldn’t find a clean public toilet. During the day one could witness the high unemployment rate as men stood around cars with their friends smoking. And yet in the evening, one might be invited to a lavish banquet where heaping plates of food and lengthy vodka toasts continued until late in the evening. During the weekends I enjoyed taking long walks to enjoy the lush natural surroundings and would always come upon piles of garbage strewn along the roadside. There were cows walking amidst the roads with cars and yet I saw more grade school children using cell phones than in California.

Of course, I figured this would all sort itself out after our Pre-Service Training was completed in mid-August and we were finally be assigned to the cities where we would work for the next two years. I was still hopeful that my years of experience in business would guide me in assisting their efforts in tourism. Instead it was the Al-Anon Serenity Prayer that proved to be my guide: God grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the Courage to change the things I can’t and the Wisdom to know the difference. As we approached the Christmas holidays, I began to doubt if I was my efforts at my NGO (or “Non-Profits” as they say in the States) were of any value.

Over the holidays I approached last year’s group of Volunteers seeking some insight into my confusion. Some seemed oblivious to the problem and many others voiced frustrations similar to mine. While all the Volunteers worked in one of four programs, many felt were just “putting band-aids” on very serious problems. Some like me worked in Community/ Business Development and others worked in Teaching English, Health or Environmental Education. The Health Volunteers I met seemed frustrated just to find a time slot in their assigned schools which had no real health curriculum. But wasn’t this a country whose smoking population had the highest percentage in all of Europe? If the Armenian government would implement a non-smoking program for teenagers, we could serve as trainers and educators throughout the country. I saw the same lack of effectiveness with the Environmental Volunteers. We organized village “Clean-up Days” or “Green Camps” but the mindset of the citizens in general seemed the same. Nobody seemed to think twice about tossing plastic bottles or vodka bottles in the rivers and their empty cigarette packages in the streets. The situation wasn’t too different than I saw in India during my trip there in 2007, where the country couldn’t keep up with the growth of disposable consumer products.

The Community / Business Development sector where I worked had its own issues. Most of us were assigned to NGO’s where the primary focus was to obtain grant funding. The drawback here was that the focus was on the outside with little consideration of how poorly the organization functioned. I couldn’t help but think of the oft-quoted definition of insanity: Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. It seemed easier just to write another proposal than develop a more effective organization. Amidst all this I clung desperately to my basic mantra: “It’s better to light a candle than curse the darkness.” But I could feel I was getting very low on candles.

Fortunately a shift occurred during one of our conferences. Our packet of information included some articles written “pro”: and “con” regarding the effectiveness of today’s Peace Corps. One writer said that most of the criticism of the Peace Corps is the result of evaluating our efforts in terms of being a “Development” program. He went on to say that the Peace Corps’ original mission was to function as a people-to-people program with a development component. At first this distinction just seemed liked semantics.

Then I began to reflect on those folks in my life who had made a significant contribution to me. In truth, they didn’t really change the circumstances of my life. And many probably never knew the impact they made. But they all gave me something I needed at the time: encouragement, friendship, hope or just some new skill. I now realize that when I complete my service in August of 2010, Armenia’s problems with unemployment, the environment and health won’t be any different. Yet all I can hope is that a handful of young people will be stronger and more confident to meet the challenges of their lives. And I do know I will take back to the States with me the many gifts of their friendship I have received.

Another Historical Adventure

Although The Pyramids are one of the 7 Wonders of the World, I honestly can't see myself flying 7,000 miles from California to see them.  But one of the perks of the Peace Corps I am discovering is proximity to places you normally would not visit.  So after 6 months of winter in Armenia, the warm weather in Egypt sounded pretty good.  Sunshine, historical sites and a round trip airfare of 450 euros made an attractive package.  (Our fare did require a 4 hour layover in Moscow but since we have more time than money in the Peace Corps, that was not a problem.)    So the first weekend in April my friend and I boarded a plane in Yerevan for Cairo.

 Before we left, I tried to recall any first-hand experience with the Egyptian culture but could only remember one classmate from years ago.  We were both in graduate school in anthropology but surprisingly enough I don't remember any conversations about the culture in her country. What I did know was that it was going to be very different from Armenia.  I am currently living in a very rural area of a Christian country whose entire population is under 3 million people.  And Cairowas not only in a Muslim country but had a population of more than 19 million people.  Kind of like going from Rio Vista to New York City.

C

To expand my appreciation for upcoming sights in Egypt, I spent some time reading up on their culture and history.  I tried to imagine what it would be like for the current residents in Cairo whose country was now a tourist destination after having been dominant political power 3000 years ago.  It's kind of like imagining tourists from China coming to the United States in the year 5000.  Will we still be a World Power or a tourist destination for those wanting to visit the Grand Canyon and the Mississippi River?  Time will tell. 

 You can't read about Egypt's history without noticing the cycles of history larger than  the 300 years of American History.  When Egypt's power began to dwindle some 1100 years before the birth of Christ, there began a rotation of conquering nations beginning with Persia.  These seemed to continue in roughly 300 year cycles where Alexander the Great, the Romans, the Ottoman Empire and finally even Napoleon for a brief period at the end of the 18^th Century conquered Egypt.  By middle of the 19^th century it was less Egypt's fertile soil but more the newly constructed Suez Canal that attracted the attention of France and England.  It wasn't until the middle of the 20^th century that Egypt like India was able to gain their independence from Britain's control.

 During our 5 days in Cairo, we did the usual tourist things like visiting the pyramids in nearby Giza and taking a brief evening sail on the Nile.  But other than these two outings, I enjoyed having my two feet be my "travel guides."  We just wandered around parts of the city and seeing what we could discover.  Sometimes what we would discover is that we were lost.   But after 8 months in Armenia, I was kind of immune to that experience.  We stayed in a small hotel ( $19 for a double room with a nice breakfast) that was oddly enough located in an area of town that seemed to specialize in industrial products.  So whenever we got lost we'd just follow the trail of   storefronts with pumps, generators and electrical items and we would soon find our bearings.  The shopping in Cairo was obviously set up to accommodate foot traffic and not cars.  You'd seen stores with wallets, and then briefcases and pretty soon it was luggage.  The same was true with ladies' clothes where as you can see in the photos, the store selling contemporary fashions were adjacent to those with the traditional burquas.

But there were plenty of cars, many of them taxis with the identical black and yellow colors hand-painted on their doors and side panels.  Crossing the street with four lanes of one way traffic did take a little getting used to.  But after a couple days you found yourself like the rest of the pedestrians in Cairo, walking across the street one lane at a time, letting the cars whiz by on both sides of you, like an amateur matador. Fortunately, there seemed to be a symbiotic relationship with the pedestrians and drivers I have never seen anywhere else. I wouldn't try it in New York City for sure.

 But like NYC, the compact urban setting with all its high energy activity just added charm to the small places where the locals ate.  Around the corner from our hotel was a small cafe selling fresh-squeezed orange juice in tall mugs for 50 cents. You could find a father and son cooking up a storm at the end of the alley, with fresh beef and chicken smoking on the grill for your falafels.  And of course, every block seemed to feature at least one café where the locals smoked their water pipes for hours at a time while they drank tea and discussed politics.

Then at night the whole scene changed as the lights in the storefronts turned on and the sidewalks filled up with shoppers, many of them women checking out the latest fashions.  Living in an Armenian city where they "roll up the sidewalks after 6pm" it was fun to walk around in the midst of all the activity.  The Egyptian people as a whole were very congenial and most of the men seemed to have been given the same script: Welcome to Egypt was said to us innumerable times with a very gracious smile.  When they find out I lived in California, a surprising number of men felt "Hi-Ho Silver" was the appropriate response.  I can't imagine they watched the same Lone Ranger TV shows I did in the 50's but oh, well.  Somehow the people all realized the importance of tourism in the Egyptian economy and acted as good-will ambassadors.  At $6 Billion a year, tourism even surpasses oil and gas as the leading contributor to the national GNP.

 

The one thing I was most curious about was how it would be living in an Islamic culture.  The Lonely Planet book on Egypt even talked about not staying at certain hotels in Old Cairo unless you wanted to wake up at the break of dawn to the sound of the loudspeaker calling you to face Mecca.  As it turned out there was the whole range of responses to the 5 daily announcements for prayer.  If you were near a mosque you would see and hear groups bowing down for prayer.   There were even times in a store or the airport where I witnessed people kneeling and praying.  And then there were those who never missed a puff on their water pipe or whatever else they were doing.  The only thing that was surprising was the number of men whose foreheads had a black spot in the center.  Having been raised in a Christian culture, it first reminded me of Ash Wednesday.  Then I realized that these were permanent marks from years of putting their foreheads down on their prayer rugs.  I don't know if this was true of the women as well for you seldom saw their foreheads.  Some women wore the traditional black burquas as you see in movies with a small slit for their eyes.  While many of the younger women covered the tops of their heads with scarves of many colors that also served as a fashion accessory.

Overall, I had only one bad experience inEgypt and could have avoided it had I been more cautious.  I had heard before our trip that "it's cheap to get on the camels but expensive to get off."  And sure enough I crossed paths with a couple of hustlers on camels at the pyraminds in Giza and wound up spending $30 I hadn't planned on. When they approached us to have our photos taken on their camels, my Peace Corps friend took off as he found all the vendors and dealers a little overwhelming. Having spent a couple years in sales myself, I assumed I could dance around the problem and suggested they take my photo "in front of the camel."  While I was standing there, one they came up behind me and lifted me on the camel.  And of course, their well-trained animal stood up immediately.  You can normally negotiate a reasonable price for a camel ride but not when you're stranded 8 feet in the air.   Chalk another up to experience.   (And yes, he is checking his cell phone on the camel.)

 For the last 3 days we journeyed a couple hours north to the City of Alexandriawhich was a wonderful change of pace from Cairo.  In addition to the usual number of taxis, there were several dozen horse carts for visitors who wanted a leisurely stroll down the crescent shaped boardwalk facing the harbor.  It was great just to sit in front of a large body of water again and watch the waves.  It may have been the Medditeranean Sea instead of the Pacific Ocean but it had the same calming effect on my spirit.

The 24 hours of Planes, Trains and Automobiles going back to Armenia was a little tiring but overall our trip to Egypt was an excellent break from 6 months of winter.

A Good Investment

A Good Investment

Having left for my Peace Corps service June 1st, I only saw the early signs of the financial crisis that is apparently in full swing in The States. And yet every week someone here in Armenia asks me about the "financial crisis" in America. I saw last week on the internet that housing values in California have fallen 40%. For me these times just confirm what is always the best investment one can make: the youth of our country.

The young adults in my village may speak a different language and have different fashions than the American kids but actually seem to have a lot in common. They are energetic, curious and would like to have more say about their future. They are pointed down the path of education and promised rewards when it is completed. In the meantime, they are seldom invited to participate in the workings of their community. The result in both countries is similar as they attempt to create their own community networks over the internet and amuse themselves with computer games and cell phones. Instead of "MySpace" it's a Russian online program called "ClassMates." Lacking the money for expensive iPods, it is a common site to see one teenager holding 2 cell phones so they can share music through Bluetooth software. And while home computers are somewhat of a rarity, it is not uncommon to see students at their school computer labs playing "Vice City." So much for my idea of not seeing violent computer games for a couple years!

So several months ago when I heard about a Youth Bank program, I was interested to learn more. I liked what I heard and applied for the grant with a local youth NGO in our city. We were successful and then conducted interviews to select those young people who seemed to possess the desire and enthusiasm to make a contribution to our community. We selected 4 girls and 2 boys. ( I've had to get used to the fact that an unmarried 30 year-old is still a "boy" or "girl" but an 18 year-old who marries is not.) We had to find a replacement for one of our two guys as military service is mandatory for all 20 year old males.

Two weeks ago we took our group to Yerevan for 3 days of training in the world of "grant-making." American tax dollars are still a primary source of "seed money" for social change through organizations like US AID which funds this program through Eurasia Partnership Foundation. As you know the major drawback of such programs is that it can become like welfare, a crutch that some people become dependent on. There are countless numbers of NGO's (what we call Non-Profit businesses) that seem to exist solely for the purpose of getting salaries for the applicants.
What I liked about the Youth Bank Project from the beginning was that there we NO salaries. The grant funds were only $2,500 and all of that money was to be put back into the community via $500 projects. Our 3 day training was to help our youth through various role-playing activities how to decide what is a good project worth funding.

Our group met yesterday and began the process of designing a questionnaire to find out what our the main problems to address in our community. When they have finished their community interviews, they will design a poster requesting applicants and sometime in May will start interviewing those who have applied. I spoke with the leaders of a Youth Bank in another city who said they had about 20-25 applications to review before selecting the best for interviews. Whatever comes of all this, I can't help but feel our young people will benefit much personally. They will not only gain some financial understanding as they monitor the projects they fund but they will also become more engaged with the social issues of their own communities. Seems to me to be a good return for the $2,500 of tax invested. And then next year, they will be required to take it to the next level and raise the money themselves in the community. As was printed on the back of the shirts of our Youth Bank trainers: real problems, real money, real change.

This project had its origin in Northern Ireland so I got to enjoy the company of 3 people from Belfast during our time in the capital. I also benefited from the fact that our trainers spoke almost no Armenian so three translators were working all the time in each of the groups. And from the young people from our city, it was a great opportunity to make connections with their peers from other regions of Armenia as they mixed the groups for the first 2 days of the training. As the sessions went from 9 in the morning until 9 at night, the coffee breaks were very active social times.

As the program was winding down the final day I wound up chatting with one of the local cameraman filming the event. Having been raised himself during the Soviet era, he had a wonderful perspective on all the meetings and discussions the young people were engaged in. He told me that most of his generation of Armenians lacked the skills for collaboration, something I have greatly struggled with to help grow the tourism industry at my site. He commented to me that watching the young people working together was for him like "pushing back the invisible wall to progress in Armenia." I'd have to say that was a "good investment."