Monastery and Mr. Babel

Off I go on another adventure a bit late in the day, but the sun is shining yet again. I really get blessed with incredible weather and I know it. 

I bring my Fall jacket with me as I know I will need it after sunset. I decide to walk the opposite direction I normally take each day and end up walking through a residential area, where I stopped for a coffee break and the girl made me a cappuccino with a heart.  You never know when you are going to get that special heart on your coffee, but it always gives you a nice feeling.   

When I leave I plan to take a taxi to the monastery because it is only accessible by driving there.  There was a small area of taxis-most of them smoking, not friendly  (main point).  I have to enjoy the ride, feel comfortable and safe especially when they are taking me outside the city to a deserted monastery-let's be safe and smart girls. 

Also another reason why I take the bus and never encounter problems is because it is public and very safe when you around many passengers, bus staff, and sometimes police or officials etc. 

Sitting on the bench, I am thinking to myself that this just is not going to happen. I am not getting into the car with any of these drivers and the smoking is non-stop, which I cannot tolerate anywhere let alone a long car ride. 

I start walking away and am thinking I should just find a small tour for the monasteries and then I see Mr. Babel-my angel. 

“Can I help you madam?”

All the standard questions, "Where are you from? How many people are with you?" These monasteries are very special and beautiful you should see them madam. 

Me: "I would like to visit the monastery, but for a local price not tourist price.”

He laughs, “Are you Indian?” He guesses that I am from India and we start talking about Raj Kapoor and all the Indian films he loves. When I travel, it is amazing how many people love the old school Bollywood movies. He is just so friendly and so jolly and I just can’t resist happy guys with a big belly.  From my experience, I do not think I have ever had a bad experience with a jolly, older man with a belly who is full of stories and lots of laughs...nope never happened. This is my driver and his name is Babel... Mr. Babel 

He said that he wants me to have a good experience to report to my Indian family about Armenia and says he will take me to the monastery for a local price, which worked out for me.  It was only 20KM away and he had nothing to do accept sit and smoke waiting for tourists that were not coming.  

There was a slight negotiation on the smoking as I requested he limit the smoking as much as possible. He agreed and the cigarette every 10 minutes-typical Georgia/ Armenia style was limited to only a few, which I did not mind.  

And another adventure! The best part was his old Soviet car from 1998. I absolutely love these cars and they were all over Gyumri along with the old Mercedes.

It did feel like a movie or going back in time when driving this car through the countryside. He tells me about his Indian friend in Bahrain who he thinks would be a good match for me. He tells me the history of the Earthquake that killed 25,000 people in 1988. He shows me the homes that are still being rebuilt and explains that most of the factories were destroyed leaving people without a job. He describes it as a terrible time in Gyumri that he was lucky to not be present as he was living in Germany at the time. He spent time living in both Moscow and Germany. He participated in a lot of reconstruction of the buildings after the earthquake, which he was very proud of doing.  

We passed through the villages with mountains, green fields, and many cows. We head down the hill and I can see the monastery in a distance. It is just the monastery with nothing around it except taxis and tourists. 

It shines in the sun and it is incredible how they keep these monasteries in such a beautiful way.  He drops me off in front and says, “I wait here Prisa.” That is what he calls me. Priscilla is a difficult name for many locals here so I try to make it easier and let them call me a short name and sometimes very endearing and humorous with their accent.  

There are two parts to the 1,000 year old monastery that is just fantastic. It really was worth it to see this one. I kneeled down on the red carpet in front of the cross and said a small prayer. He was waiting so I did not want to do my normal hour of walking around, journaling a bit, full prayer, and some photos. 

As we were leaving, he is playing Armenian music and we are singing a Hindi song together, which I had playing on my phone. He shares with me his words of wisdom, "Life is short just enjoy and don't worry so much. You will meet nice man one day. Don't worry Prisa. You are good woman." 

If I had a $1 for everytime someone said this, I would have $100 hahaha 

I tell him that we can stop for an espresso and a snack since if he would like-my treat. 

He says that he has to head back to his taxi spot to meet his friend, which is the same spot he picked me up. He drops me off in the center and he asks if I can come visit him again tomorrow and we can have a coffee.

I said that “I wish I could, but I will be leaving to another city... just remember my friend that you gave me some good memory here and I am grateful.” 

He said, “Bye Prisa. Say hello to your family in India”

India would be my next destination after Georgia and Armenia.