Laundry in Armenia
I am not quite sure why I am thinking about laundry today.
I did the laundry. It is done. We are done with that task for the next little while.
But today, for some reason, this photo from Armenia is on my mind. So I searched for it and here it is. I call it laundry in Armenia.
I am remembering those days in Armenia when all of a sudden, the traffic would all stop, everything would just stop, the police would clear the roads and then sirens would sound, and an entourage of expensive black cars, 5, 6, 7 or more of them would pass through town… drawing attention to themselves… everyone stopping, staring for that moment. The first time this happened, I was taken aback. I had never seen so many of those particular expensive cars all at one time; but here in Armenia, of course…
I was on my way to work with the children in our broken down building appropriately named Orran or Haven in English… “who was in those cars?” I innocently asked walking to work, passing by buildings like this one, laundry on display, life inside carrying on as the luxury cars passed by… who, indeed.