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An Intern's Farewell, Part 2.

I almost feel bombarded (in a good way) with images and thoughts of Armenia. It is interesting that I’m noticing these reminders only after visiting the country. Now in America, I’m compelled to make everyone know that Armenia is the greatest country. Though clearly annoying to my friends, I can’t help but laugh at myself for becoming everything that I made fun of my mother for. I’m like that man from My Big Fat Greek Wedding who claimed that every single word found its roots in Greek.

I recently took a self defense class that just happened to be in the University Chapel. They have images of women from around the world, typically of low income, in the chapel basement. I caught myself smiling when I noticed that there was a picture of an Armenian woman laughing. She had no teeth and was standing in front of her tiny home, but she stood out among the portraits of somber women.


I pointed it out to my friends and they did their typical “yeah yeah we get it. You’re Armenian” spiel, but I still was proud that the Armenian woman was the only one that was clearly laughing of all the shots. I can just imagine her inviting the photographers in for a full meal with vegetables she had just picked from the garden and fresh lavash. It just made me miss the hospitality even more.

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This is really difficult. After two months in Armenia, my return to the U.S. looms. For the past week I’ve been trying more than ever to process this incredible experience with the hope of being able

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