An Ode to the Green and Intertwined Community of Vanadzor

“Aziz jan”. Two words that wrap around you like a warm hug. Spoken from the stalls of the shuka after explaining you’re learning Armenian. Or, on the marshutka when a Tatik slips a piece of candy into your hand. In Vanadzor, you quickly become acquainted with these words as the double term of endearment wisps into your ears walking the streets or overhearing conversations at the grocery store. Or, the best part, as they’re spoken directly to you.

Upon first entering Vanadzor, every shade of green makes its way into your view as the rolling mountains jut above the city with the pink, tuff buildings standing in front. The forested city reminded me of home in Seattle, Washington. Despite this familiarity, moving across the world was undoubtedly daunting. The twelve hour time difference from my whole support system at home felt terrifying. Okay Lucy, panic is only allowed from the windows of 8-11 am or 8-11 pm when someone from home can call you back, I joked to myself.

But, this thought did not linger long. “Who wants to play cambio?”, someone asks as we shuffle around a few tables under the ‘Coca Cola’ tents in the center of the city. A deck of cards begins to be dealt to each Vanadzor volunteer as we start our favorite card game. Someone orders the table some drinks. We’re giggling together and catching up about our day. Someone is telling the group how they mixed up the Armenian word for lentil and orphan, telling their host family “this orphan soup is delicious”! We erupt in laughter. And the best part, this gathering is not isolated.

The pull of Vanadzor is the community of togetherness. Vanadzor, finding its footing after the collapse of the Soviet Union, does not need sparkling clubs or fancy bars to pull you in. It quietly shows its charm in the city’s residents, such as Gevorg, a marshutka driver chatting and smiling whenever we enter his van to Spitak. Or, the two children’s book library women who want to ask me about the books I’ve just returned. Or, exchanging hellos and how are yous with the barista my friend passes by on the street who always remembers he likes his latte with banana milk. This infectious, small-city community permeates with the Vanadzor volunteers whether we’re playing card games, having a picnic by the river, planning a weekend hike or dancing for hours at a YMCA camp for Artsakhtsi kids. It’s all together.

And it doesn’t end with the city residents or volunteers. After a twenty-minute marshutka ride outside of Vanadzor, and yelling “Anna Jermots” to let the driver know where you want to get off, you’re plopped right outside of a Lori town called Spitak. This jobsite is another Vanadzor delight. I remember not knowing if there were any hands-on jobs that involved farmwork or gardening, especially in Vanadzor. But this hidden gem persists, alluring volunteers with the delicious lunches and an offering of work that is not high stress while we acclimate to the language and culture. The greenhouses offer solace in the spring when snow still sprinkles the ground and shades from the June thunderstorms. I helped by pulling weeds, constructing new greenhouses, harvesting vegetables, and turning the plots over for new crops. The family business can be boldly observed: the grandma making us fresh mint tea with homemade ponchik, as we play musical chairs with the young daughter before we get started. Anna, the boss, joins us for lunch and proudly states what lunch veggies were grown in her garden and talks about the new projects she is dreaming up. This jobsite is not just work but has a way of making us feel integrated, either by helping the family make khorovats for a birthday or teaching the kids to ride a bike during the lunch break.

Vanadzor is smaller than the other cities you can volunteer in. But, the smallness is in its strength. It was the perfect place for me to become familiar with Armenia for the first time and the small group setting made me feel grounded so far away from home. I loved how as volunteers, we were able to do so many activities all together and it provided the perfect footing to learn the language and culture almost forgotten in my family after my Armenian grandmother’s passing. Vanadzor is held in my heart, thank you Aziz <3.