grant me
Well, I pulled the grant together, Arko and I went into Yerevan (Armenia's capital and the home of PC headquarters) for the presentation, and I sent off this email to the folks back home:
Ok, y'all -
Last time I was in Yerevan I got up extraordinarily early in the morning to trot off to Peace Corps and do the email thang, wrote a lovely long missive with all sorts of fascinating details, which then promptly disappeared into the ether when I tried to send it. So you got the short note instead - it was all I had time for at that point. I needed to get out the door and catch my marchutney - it's a big concern around here.
So, yes, we got the grant - o, raise high the roofbeams, carpenters! I wasn't best pleased with my presentation - though the grant itself was well written and fairly complete - but out of the six grants, ours was the only one unanimously approved, so maybe I was doing something right. It's also true that we were the final presentation on the schedule and it's entirely possible the committee was simply exhausted by the process, worn down and ready to rubber stamp just about anything in order to get the hell out of there. The result is the same. The school got the grant, I got 11 roses from Varton, the director of the school (even numbers of flowers are unlucky here, and are reserved for funeral bouquets), and a standing ovation from my classmates (yes, I was properly embarrassed) - and soon enough construction can begin. It'll keep me busy for a while - I'm expecting through the end of July - and it'll be a marvelous thing for the school. A roof that doesn't leak, a dry and level floor, windows for the light, and air circulation. No more puddles on the floor. The little things that count.
We still need to get mats somehow and somewhere - they're not easily available here, if indeed they're available at all - but this is a good start. I think it ensures my ascension to black belt status in the next two years as well, which would be nice. Ok, in reality THAT'S never gonna happen, but it is my little fantasy. Manifestly Dangerous Meg. Uh-huh.
Meanwhile, on other fronts, it looks like the Akner school (Akner's a village on the outskirts of Alaverdi, a good 45 minutes away) will be getting two computers donated from a US organization - I finally heard back from the contact person. I'm still not sure when the computers will be arriving - they're shipped out with another aid organization, and the plane seems to leave more or less when it's ready to leave. I'll get a call one day this summer and have to run into Yerevan quick like a bunny for pickup. Not exactly an ideal situation, but the one we're working with.
And I'm still trying to get in touch with that damn children's aid society - I think they're doing good work, and god knows there's the need, but - Christ on the cross! - they're not exactly easy to deal with. Updates will be coming and my apologies for the delay. It's Armenian Standard Time to the nth degree.
The first year's almost gone; my Armenian's still wretched but I survive somehow. My first real projects are underway, and the sun is out. Mary and Dad will be arriving in a little under a month (hi you two!) and I'm way behind on my mail.
A week later:
I've written everyone I've gotten letters from and am once again basking in the smug self superiority of the virtuous. Wouldn't you like to feel that feeling? It's so simple - just dash something off and throw it in the mail with the appropriate postage. Wanna give it a try, Beth? (O, sister, where art thou? ) Janice? Justin? Ted? Joel? Reba & Ron? Greek? Kevin & Kelly - I don't even have a current snailmail address for you guys! Zola? Dana? Huh?
(Quick note - life is better if you use waterproof ink on the international mails. I don't know quite what it goes through, but some of it's damp. The envelope glue tends to re-liquefy and adhere itself nicely to the letter, for example. It does make reading the mail a bit more challenging at times, and Peace Corps is supposed to be about challenges - but there's no need to overdo it.)
Since last week I've gotten 9 calla lilies, five red roses, and my picture on the wall of the school - next thing you know, it'll be a full size statue. Oy vey. It's a bit overwhelming at times, but I think it will die down soon enough. Probably just about the time I've gotten comfortable with it. We're still waiting for the money to actually arrive so we can start the process - we set up the bank account last week, which was an incredibly byzantine process involving various official documents, running around town to acquire stamps on some of said documents, drinking whiskey with the bank president (UGH!), and shelling out a thousand dram at one point to some other official. Whatever happened to free toasters and incentive programs?
I have a funny feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.
Meanwhile, I've sent two packages out through the local mails - and I'm not risking any more until I know they arrived at their intended destinations. So, Pat and Brian, did you get the camera back? And John Morrison up there in Wallingford, how about you? And if you guys did, where are my copies of the photos? You promised, after all! Packages coming the other way have been arriving sans problems, even at the local post - though I do end up having to pay some sort of 'tax' there, it's never more than a thousand dram (that translates to roughly $2.00 USD, or a third of my daily 'wage').
Ok, y'all -
Last time I was in Yerevan I got up extraordinarily early in the morning to trot off to Peace Corps and do the email thang, wrote a lovely long missive with all sorts of fascinating details, which then promptly disappeared into the ether when I tried to send it. So you got the short note instead - it was all I had time for at that point. I needed to get out the door and catch my marchutney - it's a big concern around here.
So, yes, we got the grant - o, raise high the roofbeams, carpenters! I wasn't best pleased with my presentation - though the grant itself was well written and fairly complete - but out of the six grants, ours was the only one unanimously approved, so maybe I was doing something right. It's also true that we were the final presentation on the schedule and it's entirely possible the committee was simply exhausted by the process, worn down and ready to rubber stamp just about anything in order to get the hell out of there. The result is the same. The school got the grant, I got 11 roses from Varton, the director of the school (even numbers of flowers are unlucky here, and are reserved for funeral bouquets), and a standing ovation from my classmates (yes, I was properly embarrassed) - and soon enough construction can begin. It'll keep me busy for a while - I'm expecting through the end of July - and it'll be a marvelous thing for the school. A roof that doesn't leak, a dry and level floor, windows for the light, and air circulation. No more puddles on the floor. The little things that count.
We still need to get mats somehow and somewhere - they're not easily available here, if indeed they're available at all - but this is a good start. I think it ensures my ascension to black belt status in the next two years as well, which would be nice. Ok, in reality THAT'S never gonna happen, but it is my little fantasy. Manifestly Dangerous Meg. Uh-huh.
Meanwhile, on other fronts, it looks like the Akner school (Akner's a village on the outskirts of Alaverdi, a good 45 minutes away) will be getting two computers donated from a US organization - I finally heard back from the contact person. I'm still not sure when the computers will be arriving - they're shipped out with another aid organization, and the plane seems to leave more or less when it's ready to leave. I'll get a call one day this summer and have to run into Yerevan quick like a bunny for pickup. Not exactly an ideal situation, but the one we're working with.
And I'm still trying to get in touch with that damn children's aid society - I think they're doing good work, and god knows there's the need, but - Christ on the cross! - they're not exactly easy to deal with. Updates will be coming and my apologies for the delay. It's Armenian Standard Time to the nth degree.
The first year's almost gone; my Armenian's still wretched but I survive somehow. My first real projects are underway, and the sun is out. Mary and Dad will be arriving in a little under a month (hi you two!) and I'm way behind on my mail.
A week later:
I've written everyone I've gotten letters from and am once again basking in the smug self superiority of the virtuous. Wouldn't you like to feel that feeling? It's so simple - just dash something off and throw it in the mail with the appropriate postage. Wanna give it a try, Beth? (O, sister, where art thou? ) Janice? Justin? Ted? Joel? Reba & Ron? Greek? Kevin & Kelly - I don't even have a current snailmail address for you guys! Zola? Dana? Huh?
(Quick note - life is better if you use waterproof ink on the international mails. I don't know quite what it goes through, but some of it's damp. The envelope glue tends to re-liquefy and adhere itself nicely to the letter, for example. It does make reading the mail a bit more challenging at times, and Peace Corps is supposed to be about challenges - but there's no need to overdo it.)
Since last week I've gotten 9 calla lilies, five red roses, and my picture on the wall of the school - next thing you know, it'll be a full size statue. Oy vey. It's a bit overwhelming at times, but I think it will die down soon enough. Probably just about the time I've gotten comfortable with it. We're still waiting for the money to actually arrive so we can start the process - we set up the bank account last week, which was an incredibly byzantine process involving various official documents, running around town to acquire stamps on some of said documents, drinking whiskey with the bank president (UGH!), and shelling out a thousand dram at one point to some other official. Whatever happened to free toasters and incentive programs?
I have a funny feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.
Meanwhile, I've sent two packages out through the local mails - and I'm not risking any more until I know they arrived at their intended destinations. So, Pat and Brian, did you get the camera back? And John Morrison up there in Wallingford, how about you? And if you guys did, where are my copies of the photos? You promised, after all! Packages coming the other way have been arriving sans problems, even at the local post - though I do end up having to pay some sort of 'tax' there, it's never more than a thousand dram (that translates to roughly $2.00 USD, or a third of my daily 'wage').
posted by meg at 5:30 PM
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