Blog By K.

Archive for the ‘Travel’ Category

let there be summer

In Beauty, Fashion, Photography, Travel on 2013/06/11 at 9:05 am

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Elle Mexico Sarah Ruba1
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Glow Magazine We are Handsome Elle Mexico Behati Prinsloo Editorial Ellen Dahl

le printempts

In Beauty, Fashion, Holidays, Photography, Travel on 2013/05/09 at 8:30 am

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Spring editorials from Fashiongonerogue

roman holiday

In Beauty, Fashion, Holidays, Photography, Travel on 2012/08/19 at 11:14 am




Fashiongonerogue

The Change

In Life, Random, Script, Travel on 2012/03/20 at 7:12 pm

You shift the plan, he said. You move on. You look out for yourself and you deal with what’s to come. Make this your priority of making yourself your biggest priority. The day you start following anything else but this is the day you’ll remember years from now. The moment you stopped doing what you wanna do and started doing what everyone else said you oughta do. Nobody forgets their doomsday, boy.

– Old man on train

 

Spectacular dishes (or: Horrifying aches)

In Friends, Holidays, Life, Travel on 2012/03/07 at 10:07 pm

Reverse three months back. The time is this year’s (or last year’s? you know what I mean) Christmas holidays. Remebering going to a dinner at some family friends, one of those invites where you know the food will be amazing but also terrifyingly excessive. No is not a word you use here, folks. Similar to not taking off your shoes at a formal japanese dinner (where ironically, you shouldn’t say no to any food offerings either for that matter). But hey, what’s a little stomach ache for ya when you have so many wonderful meals and aftermeals to digest. The week after New Year’s was intense though. Apparently, it’s Armenian tradition that the week after New Year’s eve to start gathering or arriving at different dinner invitations to old friends, new friends and so on. My family and I had no idea in the beginning (or in other words, at number one of five invitations we were to attend that very week) so coming somewhat unprepared, we thought we’d stop by for a while and perhaps enjoy some tea and cookies. so so wrong. Instead, imagine a feast fit for kings. Plus their relatives. That pretty much explains how an armenian-week-after-new-year-dinner looks like. So much food and cake and drinks and more food and more cake and so on. A completely unbearable set of experiences, and I mean that in way of saying that the first time was an interesting yet beloved surprise, but after a few of those, fear of what is to come starts circulating one’s thoughts instead. One of these dinners was at my friend Arpi’s place who works in a voluntary programme to help with disabled children in Yerevan. Like me Arpi also inhabits Armenian heritage but has lived in Europe all her life. And like me her mind is set on medicine studies in the future as well. That’s the thing about meeting people abroad, you always become surprised as to how many things you can find in common with completely random people in so many ways possible.

The place Arpi and her co-workers stay at

poets and foreigners alike

In Life, Photography, Random, Travel on 2012/02/22 at 10:25 pm

Apparently, the western Armenian I speak in comparison to the Armenian people speak here is a type of dialect that is only used in literature or what’s more impressive – poetry. “It’s the oldest of dialects in our heritage” my teacher tells me with a smile on her face and then quickly moves on to the idiom of the day which goes something like “the nr of languages you’re able to speak, is the nr of people you are” which sounds totally bizarre and at first I thought it might be me translating completely wrong but it literally goes like that and is equally cryptic in Armenian as well. Number of languages tells me how much of a person I am. How many people I am. She starts to ask everyone in class how many languages they know and when I give my personal language count, she replies “so you’re five people then”. “Five bordering six if possible”, I say.

Imagine how it would be like if we were all defined by our amount of language intake. The thought did cross my mind, or the image of going from country to country to be a different person or the same person or any person by every language we spoke. Then I started getting ahead of myself and created spectacular plots where kicking ass in language skills was accomponied by kicking ass in general.

Too often I feel I get so much more of my language lessons than anything else, but that’s how it’s always been be this year or ten years back. Maybe I’ll be eight people in a few years or so. But now for some random visuals taken when going out at different spots.

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fact: freezing is a pain except for cooling of various pastries

In Life, Photography, Travel on 2012/02/02 at 9:03 pm

There’s a different type of cold here. At least compared to what I’m used to back home. Sharp like a razor or isande as they’d say it in Swedish. Accordingly it hits your face, head, bones even as soon as you walk out the door. Some of my friends here say they hike all the way to the neighbouring country Georgia stating “it’s pretty alright, actually” but that does not change my sentiments whatsoever, perhaps the contrary effect, even though I’m trying to build up a more healthy routine exercise-wise these days. Thing is, I’m always walking here. walk walk walk. And since the entire city is mountainous, it’s always walk up or walk down or walk fast but don’t fall in the holes that are scattered everywhere etc.

Some days I get so frustratingly angry at the weather here, cursing at thin air every time I’m about to leave the house, but then there’s these little things that can make up for it all. Like today when arriving home, our nearby jazz-man starting playing his music again. He’s invisible to the eye, our jazz-man, but every once in a while we can hear him playing his saxophone, a rarity treasured to the utmost. And so today as I was opening the gate, once again annoyed at the minus degrees, I heard the jazz-man (why not woman?) play his or her tunes and suddenly – everything was alright again.

(Note: this post was written one and a half week ago. Today it snowed all day. Fucking weather.)

with mountains of memories

In Life, Photography, Travel on 2012/01/04 at 6:17 pm

Visiting the Armenian Genocide Memorial Complex in Tsitsernakaberd (translation Swallow’s Fortress) was  chilling – in two ways. Wished I’d taken more shots but I couldn’t move my fingers at the time. When the biosphere starts warming up and the museum opens again, I’ll come back for more.

now based elsewhere: continuum

In Life, Travel on 2011/11/19 at 9:52 pm

The very first day we wake up at 2 pm, having gone to sleep at 5 am the night before, and as irrational as I become of hunger (this is one of my great weaknesses, folks) I decide for the sake of us all to go dine somewhere at immediate speed for breakfast, lunch, dinner, whichever quicker. While we’re leaving the apartment an earthquake suddenly hits the city. Not only is this my first time ever experiencing such a thing, but we are at this moment located on the ninth floor in a high storey building. Having dad rush us into the elevator (why????????? i still don’t know) we go down and feel the impact while inside, very distinctly I might add. “This is a sign” brother says, half-joking half-serious. Reaching the bottom floor and trying to cope with this unpleasant surprise we continue our journey walking on the main street, people looking bewildered at most but not at all shaken up. We end up at a four star restaurant, something in the line of food compensating for emotional trauma I’m guessing but the point of this is to show how cheap everything is around here and indeed, it was.

But my mind isn’t really processing anything or isn’t even in that realm to be honest. Yet I let it linger on to these moments, feeling half-numb half-awake. Was it because of lack of sleep or the bodily concussion, still unsure about that part.

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now based elsewhere

In Life, Travel on 2011/11/09 at 7:51 pm

About two weeks ago I left the comfortable hometown in Sweden to go live in the capital city of Armenia. The reason for this decision was purely obligatory. I’m kidding! It was entirely my own, and has a lot to do with what I envisioned my future to look like. Back home I could basically keep doing the already known, keep going to the already seen, keep living the already given. It was all very…safe. But that wasn’t really the reason I left. I had to make the decision whether or not I was going to let an obstacle such as departing to a completely different environment for a long period of time get in the way of an education I’d wanted since the age of ten. Medicine. So, final outcome being, I moved and now I’m here. Feels very out-of-body to be frank, since [a month’s behind of] studies plus the actual adapting process of living in the country where my roots are have slowed down my visceral reactions, not being able to comprehend the fact that IT’S HERE I’M STAYING AT. Whatever.

Upon arrival the outlook is unexpected but hardly strange, what reference did I have? Shock is the main feeling though. And one word: different. So. very. different. “Take a good look, Karin”, my brother says. I’m looking. I’m nodding. Then I see my reflection at the cabwindow; the entire time I was shaking my head, not nodding at all. “So this is the homecountry, huh?”

We go to the market, the clock shows 3 am, but everything’s open anyway. “Take whatever you want”, dad says and we start shopping all kinds of goods. I look over at the cigarettes a friend told me would cost about 10 SEK. They barely add upp to 7 SEK. “So this is the homecountry, huh.”

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