On my way to the Green Belt from my hotel I made a stop at the Cathedral of St. Gregory the Illuminator which is the largest Armenian church in the world. The Cathedral was consecrated in September 2001 to commemorate the 1700th anniversary of the proclamation of Christianity as a State Religion in Armenia. Symbolically it has 1700 seats. It is atypical in several ways: it has seats, there are no candles, and there is an organ. Why this is so, I do not know. Normally when visiting a church you buy candles, light them, and stick them in a tray of sand. The candle lighting is not completely avoided however as there is an adjacent building specifically for the lighting of candles. Another bit of trivia, it is customary to walk out of the church backwards so as not to turn your back on god.
Isahakyan Street changed character several times over the course of my stroll though it was bustling the entire way. As I started out it appeared that everyone was going somewhere else - hopping on and off buses, mini-buses, or trolleys. Mini-buses appear to fill in areas where the other methods of transportation don't, though there is much overlap. There are some 125 mini-bus routes along which you simply hail one down, hop aboard (though oftimes it seems to be cram aboard), indicate when you want to get off, and pay as you leave.
After a bit I approached Yerevan State University and the average age of my fellow walkers dropped considerably. Even with that I felt more at home here. Jeans are very common in Yerevan, but not Nancy-type jeans. These are designer jeans and VERY form fitting and frequently accompanied by boots with very high heeals. Not a Levi, Wrangler, or Lee in sight on Abovyan Street. But here, though most are forty years or so younger, people are dressed more like me.
As an aside, this city is not handicap accessible. The sidewalks are not always in good repair and, even if they are, many times each building has a different type of sidewalk with a different height. You really have to watch where you are walking and frequently are picking your way through a bit of rubble. Yet the women are in stilletos and striding along. Amazing!
As I reach the end of the Green Belt, I grab a pastry before turning the corner onto Mashtots Avenue. This pastry has a lamb and cheese filling and costs a whooping 120 drams or just over 31 cents.
Mashtots Avenue is named after a monk who devised the Armenian alphabet in order to translate the bible into Armenian. How cool it is to actually know who developed your alphabet!
I don't stay on Mashtots for long since Neil and I walked here last Sunday. Instead I zig-zag back to Republic Square trying to hit little streets that I've not yet travelled. I see nothing too noteworthy; still each street has its own character and I enjoy discovering it.
I arrive back at the hotel and shortly afterwards Neil arrives. He has some work to do to prepare for tomorrow so we decide to go to a restaurant nearby. I order Armenian Pastry with Curdled Milk Sauce. The pastry is very much like thin Slippery Noodles and has some spices in it which I don't recognize but taste very good. The sauce tastes very much like sour cream but is crisper and more tart. Also good.
When the bill arrives it has a 10% service charge. This evidently is getting more common and one would think the money would go to the server. Not so, we have discovered. It is just an extra charge that goes to the restaurant. So fortunately we know enough to leave a tip. Still, a 10% tip which is the norm only comes to 700 dram or $1.85. As we are leaving our server presses a coin into my hand. I try to find out what this is all about, but her English is only slightly better than my Armenian. Back at the hotel we see that the coin is Hungarian and worth just a few cents. Puzzled by this, Neil asks at the bank the next day and is told that with the added 10% service charge, oftentimes the server receives no tip at all and this was her way of showing her gratitude. They also say that should we go there again, we will be remembered and treated extremely well.
My final comment for the day is that the police here wear the goofiest looking hats. I'm certain that the police force has lost out on several potential candidates because they have too much self respect to wear those things.
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