About my life in Armenia, about being a mom and an activist, working for women's rights.
The challenges and benefits of raising a family in a post-soviet republic.
Finding a place, my place and calling it HOME.


It's my park, keep it clean!

We woke up very early, as usual and after sending the older kids to school and cuddling for a while with baba, Yeprad, my 2-year-old and I went out for our regular walk down Baghramyan street towards our favorite park. After greeting every single dog, cat and bird, on our way and waving to the "babik" on his horse (Marshal Baghramyan) at the corner of Proshyan and mimicking the police car sound effect, we finally entered Lover’s Park. I was following my little guy quietly, enjoying the peaceful morning when we approached one of the benches. Suddenly, Yeprad got upset, changing the tone of his voice, pointing with his finger  to something on the floor and calling it: "amot, amot, badij!"(shame, shame on you, punish) - Finally I realized that he was pointing at chocolate wrapper on the floor near the bench and was angry at the people who might have thrown it on the ground, dirtying "his" park. We usually teach him not to throw waste on the floor and keep nature clean. His babysitter had also taught him the word "amot", unfortunately, so he uses it whenever something bothers him or make him angry:)