Trash Picking Continues

One day of trash picking wasn't enough for us.  Between last Saturday and today, we ordered from Amazon, bright yellow trash picking implements.  They have made our jobs a little easier.  Less bending. As our son David said, more "professional."

We were a little concerned that we would have done ourselves out of a job, since we collected trash last Saturday.  Lo and behold, we still have jobs.  The hiking portion of the trail wasn't as bad as last week, but the asphalt bicycle trail has reverted to it's normal state of disarray in a week's time.

This week, more people stopped to thank us for our service.  One woman asked where we got our sticks, noted the label, and said she wanted to get one.  Several other people said they might bring trash bags with them in the future.  The man sitting on the bench where the stoned lady sat last week, actually helped pick up the refuse around him when I started picking up the stuff around his feet.

The bicycle path is asphalt.  This is where most trash collects.

This is the start of the hiking portion of the trail.  It becomes narrower and more beautiful as we continue to hike.  There are fewer opportunities to camp here, so there is less trash.

Some of the campers leave their trash for others to pick up.  We left this, as it would have filled our bag.  There was plenty strewn around this area to keep us busy.

Here's our haul from Day 2.  We found our newly purchased trash pickers to be most helpful.

We will see what next Saturday brings.

Talking Trash in Portland Oregon

When we are not travelling Taylor and I like to walk through Oaks Bottom Wildlife Refuge several times a week.  We are lucky that we can walk to the trail head from our house, and hike through the wildlife area that nestles between the communities of Westmoreland and Sellwood, and the Willamette River.

We are not the only people who enjoy the area.  Some people even like to live in these woods. For a while now, Taylor and I have spent way too much time complaining to each other about the trash that collects on the trails.  Today, we had had enough of whining at each other and we took the trash, so to speak, into our own hands.

We donned latex gloves and carried a large kitchen garbage bag with us, and as we started at the trail head we began to collect trash.  We had rules for ourselves: no dog poop bags (yes people pick up the poop and then discard the bags), no broken glass,  nothing too far off the trail or in precarious locations. Nothing too big.

This qualifies as too big.

It was an experience.  We spoke to a number of people as we walked and picked up. I'd say about one third of the people we met thanked us for our efforts.  One woman, sitting on a bench smoking cannabis, thanked us and said the folks who live in the woods try to pick up after themselves, but things get out of hand.  That said we collected a cigarette package, multiple butts, beer cans and coffee cups from around her feet.

When we got off the paved bicycle trail and onto the narrower hiking trail, the trash diminished somewhat - I think do to a lack of seating areas contributes to this.  Since we were walking at a slower pace than normal, we saw coyotes, and well as dog walkers and runners.

At the end of the trail, we had a bag full.

Some of the notable items: a sake bottle, the lid to a Revere Ware saucepan, a large plastic container that had held mixed nuts from Costco, a bicycle tire, the wheels from a grocery cart, a tee shirt, a sheet or blanket, cartons of organic food from New Seasons, a comb, a Ben and Jerry's container and of course beer cans, coffee cups, plastic bottle tops, and oh - a cartridge from a soda stream.

So we've come full circle starting with sorting our personal trash to be collected by the singing trucks in Taipei, to just picking it up here at home.

Acts of Kindness

My first thoughts of Armenia are that it is the poorest of the three South Caucasus countries ($9,500 GDP) and the friendliest. In every village we passed through on our drive to Yerevan people looked excited to see our bus and waved enthusiastically.  On the streets in Yerevan, local people continue to smile. I don't think I made eye contact with people in Russia.   This is most refreshing

At one of our WC stops on the road to Yerevan, Taylor poked his nose into a quiet shop, and discovered a few women baking bread.  He brought me over to see the women work, and one of the women presented us with a loaf of bread hot from the oven.  She refused to take money.

Yesterday, while waiting on the side walk in front of the hotel, we admired the gorgeous roses and told the gardener the roses were beautiful.  About five minutes later he presented me with a sprig of roses.  And, yes, they are fragrant.

Taylor ran upstairs to get a water bottle to use as a vase.  We enjoyed our little bouquet in the bus.

We had a wonderful dinner by ourselves in a little restaurant on a side street.   Since Armenia is known for it's cognac, Taylor ordered it after dinner.  Since I had had two glasses of wine I declined.  However, our gracious waitress insisted that I try the cherry liquor. It was not heavy and syrupy, but light and really had a lovely cherry flavor. This was her gift to me.

When we have breakfast at the hotel, we check in with the hostess and give her our room number. After the first day, our hostess at breakfast remembered our room number.  Today she asked me where I am from, and if I had read about Armenia at home.  She then thanked me for knowing about her small country, and for coming to visit.

One last comment about the graciousness of this country.  Every toilet I have used has not only been clean, but it's had western toilets, toilet paper and paper towels. I really like Armenia.

We Are Not Citizens M

What a trip we've had.  Russia with St Petersburg and Moscow, Azerbaijan, Georgia, Armenia............I'm feeling so amazed and fortunate we have actually been to all of these places.  I feel like we are citizens of the world.

To break up our trip home, we stopped for an overnight in Amsterdam.  We thought it would be refreshing to have a good night's sleep after our early morning 5 hour flight from Yerevan to Amsterdam, before starting the much longer flight from Amsterdam to Portland. For convenience, Taylor booked us into the Citizen M Hotel.

Citizen M is a new concept in hotels.  This one is walking distance from  Schiphol Airport, and a bus ride to downtown, where we planned to go to the Rijksmuseum for a few hours in the afternoon.  We knew the rooms would be small, the hotel reasonably priced and the convenience of location priceless.

On arrival the first thing we noticed about the hotel is that we checked ourselves in and made our own key cards!  I always thought it was a big mystery behind hotel desks that were a secret to guests.  Well.....it turns out to be pretty darn easy.  We made our keys, and found our way to our room, by ourselves (no porters, no problem).  And here we are:

This is the view from the door.  The circular business on the right is the shower.  As you can see, the bed goes from wall to wall. 

The circular area to the left of the photo, and in front of Taylor is the toilet.  If you feel you need privacy, pull the circular door closed.  The shower door must be fully closed in order to turn on the water, so there is no danger of flooding the room. Notice the sink to Taylor's right.

View from the bed with a good view of both the shower and the toilet.  

In all fairness, even though the room was minuscule, it was clean and the towels and bedding were excellent quality.  We discovered, however, the only way for each of us to use all the facilities and to get dressed, the other had to be on the bed.

We got our easy trip into downtown Amsterdam, we got a decent night's sleep, but we discovered that while we consider ourselves citizens of the world, we probably are not Citizens M.

Genocide Memorial

Over one million Armenians perished as a result of policies of the last Ottoman government between 1914 and 1918.  Thousands were deported to Syria and faced starvation, and other were methodically massacred.  Many remaining Armenians fled to other countries in what is now called the Armenian Diaspora.  There is now a larger population in the Armenian Diaspora, than there is in Armenia. This memorial complex was built in 1967 on the top of Tsitsernakaberd.  It took 50 years for the Soviet state to acknowledge that there had been a genocide.

The Memorial complex was built in 1967.  The tower on the right is tall enough to be seen by Turkey, which is over the mountains on the right of the photo.

The eternal flame. People are still leaving flowers after all these years.

Since the memorial was built in 1967 Armenians gather from all over the world  on April 24, Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day,  to remember the victims lost during the genocide.

Lake Sevan

Lake Sevan is one of the largest alpine lakes in the world.  It's a favorite of the resort set from Yerevan.  However, we don't go there for the resorts.  We go to have lunch, and to visit one more church.

I'm standing on what was once an island in Lake Sevan.  Now, due to the 1930s Soviet plan to use lake water for hydroelectricity and irrigation, the water levels are lower, and  it is a peninsula.

Remote island location in the middle of an alpine lake.  Is there a better place to build a monastery?

The monastery and surroundings are the perfect location for artists.

Taylor and I walked away from the monastery and followed a path towards the end of the peninsula.  Looking down, we discovered the home of the former president.  I wouldn't mind a house here.

This is beautiful right now, but I imagine that the winter would be pretty brutal.

The Temple of Garni

As our time in Armenia is coming to a close, Taylor expressed his thought that he'd seen enough churches.  Well, we have have seen quite a few churches, so now it's time to learn out to bake lavash.... and to see a temple, instead of a church.

Each lady is actually sitting with her legs in a hole in the ground.  The oven is also a hole in the ground.  You can see one loaf of lavash is already in the oven.

The woman to the right rolls out the dough, and the woman on the left tosses it, like pizza dough.

She slaps the dough onto the wall of the oven using the padded pillow that she is leaning on.  When it is baked, she pulls the bread out with the iron poker.

Voila!  Hot lavash.

Now that we've viewed bread baking and had lunch, it's time for - not another church, Taylor, but a temple.  The Temple of Garni was once the summer palace of King Trdat I who built it in the first century AD.  It's entirely different from the Armenian Apostolic Churches, as you can see.  However, like many of the churches we have visited, it also is in a stunning location.

I'm looking down a cliff and can see the road far down the in the valley.  What a view!

We only have one more day, here in Armenia, and only one more church.