when you return home you notice things
culture, home culture, home

when you return home you notice things

After five days I still haven't finished unpacking. Armenia feels like a dream I keep trying to sleep my way back to. The world won't stop spinning long enough for me to get my bearings, but slowly I seem anyway to make my way through the day in this familiar and yet unfamiliar small, Texan hometown of mine.Here are some of the first things I noticed:

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my texan mother in armenia

my texan mother in armenia

In the morning I usually walk to work, a routine activity that has become a more frigid experience with each passing day. It is no longer sufficient to wear my knit gloves and stuff those covered hands in my pockets. They are still cold under all those layers. I certainly don't live in the coldest part of Armenia. There's no snow on the ground here yet, just crunchy ice puddles.

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