9-July-99 Falafel expedition
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. On my way I stopped at the branch library to see if I could find anything on the Armenian alphabet, but it was closed for the lunch hour. Next door to it, however, is Saint James Armenian Apostolic Church. I walked over to look. Although we had lived three blocks from there for almost three years (granted, 25 years ago) I had never noticed the stone monument to the martyrs of the Armenian genocide, April 24 1915. The monument is a stone cross with elaborate swirls, not unlike Celtic decorations, apparently very characteristic of Armenian culture. I was able to puzzle out the "April" in Armenian letters on the top of the monument. The door of the church was draped in black cloth, and US and Armenian flags (the latter of which I recognized from the cover of Passage to Ararat -- another sign that I've learned something in the last couple of weeks) were at half mast in honor of the recent death of the head of the Armenian church. Sepal is a Palestinian falafel place with about four tables, a display case of baklava and other pastry under the cash register, and a refrigerator with cans of coke and fruit drinks with labels in Arabic. Next time I have to remember not to be a piker, but to get the falafel sandwich with hummus; the one today had lots of pickled turnip, but was a little dry. The Marash bakery down the street was closed for vacation. I drove another couple of blocks and parked across from St. Stephen's Armenian Apostolic Church. Sure enough, another stone cross in front and another door draped in black. Ooh -- check out the lettering over the doors to the churches. The names were carved into the stone lintels in upper case Armenian letters. My study of the alphabet is paying off, because the letters didn't all look like chicken tracks. I don't recognize them all yet, but I'm beginning to feel about them the way I do about Chinese characters: the people who wrote them were trying to talk to me as well as to the people who already know how to read, as clearly as they can; it's my own fault if I haven't studied enough. There aren't as many interesting stores as I really expected along Mt. Auburn street. Of course there's Kay's Market and the Massis and Sevan bakeries. Acme TV repair shop has a big selection of belly dance CDs and tapes, with covers in Arabic or Armenian or Turkish. Arax market, in the building that was my local bank when I was in graduate school, has fresh almonds and monster skewers for people who are serious about their shish kebab as well as an olive bar the size of a small supermarket salad bar. An elderly woman pushing her shopping cart was speaking Armenian while the teenage granddaughters (you figure?) behind her were trying to pretend to be too American to understand. I'll love being in Yerevan, Lonely Planet guidebook or not.
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