Not All Queer Bloggers are Hoaxes

Last week I (as well as my friend Kara Leva, it seems) was contacted by Elif Kayi for a story on the opinions and experiences of real queer bloggers following the cases of a Gay Girl in Damascus and LezGetReal.com — both instances where straight men were masquerading as queer woman online. I’m republishing Elif’s article (originally published online at EMAJ magazine) in full below:

Everybody has heard about “her.” For a few days, “she” had become the most famous queer woman in the Middle East, maybe even in the whole world. Amidst other worrying news, such as the violent repression carried out by the Syrian regime against segments of the population, the abduction of “queer blogger” Amina Abdallah Araf al Omari, presumbably by a group of armed men supposedly members the Baath Party security services or a militia, provoked a massive outcry amongst the international gay community. Support pages were immediatly created in mainstream social media such as Facebook, with slogans such as “Free Syrian Blogger Amina Abdallah a.k.a “Gay Girl in Damascus”.”

Bloggers and journalists active in social media closely followed the story, which once again reminded us of the vulnerability of bloggers in some countries, when they try to inform about their situation in those places. In this case, the blogger was said to be a young lesbian woman, describing her everyday life. Some people thought that her story would bring to light a reality often hidden: the everyday life of gay people. And despite the turmoil surrounding the “abduction,” the story was in fact  revealing an issue to the general public, including readers who might normally be hostile, or at least indifferent to such stories. At least, it was news.

When We Don't Speak the Same Language

At the roundtable on sexual violence against women in Armenia yesterday, listening to co-founder and executive director of the Women’s Resource Center of Armenia (WRCA) Lara Aharonian talk, followed by remarks by deputy head of the Department for Crimes Against the Individual of the RA General Prosecutor’s Office Artur Davtyan and finally, deputy head of the Armenian Police Department of Juvenile Affairs Artur Vardanyan, I came to a very simple conclusion — we don't speak the same language.

We all seem to be talking about the same thing and sorta-kinda saying the same things, but not really. While Lara was speaking about public perception of sexual violence, gender stereotypes and lack of resources in Armenia to support survivors of all kinds of abuse (and waiting till the end of her remarks to start throwing around some numbers), the two Arturs were, understandably on their guard, praising the work that their respective state agencies have done and apparently continue to do.

My Life Revolves Around Nikol Pashinyan (She Says with a Sigh)

(I started writing this post on May 25, 2011, on the threshold of the release of journalist and opposition activist Nikol Pashinyan, who had been imprisoned in Armenia since 2008 under questionable charges related to his involvement in the events of Mar. 1–2, 2008, in Yerevan. Bear with me as this post goes in a direction you might not have expected, considering the title!)

These days my life revolves around Nikol Pashinyan: what he says, what he writes, who he talks to. Pashinyan is revered like a god by some people while, as I mentioned in a previous post, I’d rather hang on every word that my yoga teacher says rather than any politician — be it from the ruling party, an opposition member or one with no official party affiliation — or opposition activist says (and these days, they seem to be saying a lot, while saying very little — how convenient).

A Placeholder Name

I decided I just couldn't live with "Le Retour in 3 Parts" for another day and so, to make things easy on all of us I am temporarily renaming this blog "Adrineh's Blog" — till I can come up with a better name of course.

This happened as I was organizing the blogs I subscribe to and realizing I had to rename a few because the titles the bloggers chose didn't fit with the content that I was seeking in their blogs. And of course I figured you might be doing the same things as you organize the list of blogs that you follow in Google Reader or Blogger or whatever you use to organize the information you seek online.

That's why they say writers should read and journalists should scan the news. By becoming informed and seeing what works and what doesn't in the work of others, you improve your own work.

A little bit of insight on a random Monday evening!

Panic attack

I kept putting off writing a blog post because I never felt like I had enough time, energy or the ability to compose well-thought-out, composed blog posts. Now I realize that’s exactly what I should’ve done: taken a break from all the things I HAD to do to focus on something I LOVE to do in order to feel just a little bit more in control of my life, which lately I’ve seem to lost my grip on.

I realize that I miss my imagination and I miss being passionate about something. Too much of my time in the last little while has been spent on work-related things or things that I just had to do. And the fact that I work in news media means time is always an issue — whatever has to be done has to be done NOW. And I’m slowly buckling under the weight of this pressure of Time.

Back pains and other struggles

I wrote this post on Feb. 22, but wanted to tweak it before posting. As you can see, nearly two weeks have gone by… so keep in mind, some of this news might already be old news ;)

Here goes:

For the past two weeks or so, I’ve had this knot in my back that’s made it unbearable at times to sit still at my desk (whether at home or at work) and do work. And it won’t go away.

I find that we adapt ourselves to all sorts of irreconcilable situations, and so it is that I find myself trying out different chairs and different seating positions, while performing all manner of stretches in 10-minute increments. This, along with once or twice a week yoga, riding my bike to and from work and occasional massages from my loving partner, has made the pain at least bearable. Like I told my parents yesterday: my back is so much better than it was before.

The same, however, can’t be said for the state of affairs in Armenia.

Moving soon?

Words I received today from my favorite psychic, my friend's mom (and also a friend) who lives and works on Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada:

"I glanced at this new photo of you and had to email you to tell you the feeling I got. You are wiped out, arent you? And I also feel a move for you and your love soon to a French-speaking community. You will be abundant, happy and peaceful."

Wow. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, eh?

What to do when the lights go out

So I came home from work, walked in the apartment, and switched on the lights (as I usually do). And what happened? Nothing. Yes, nothing. No lights, no electricity, no humming sound from the fridge. Oh oh, what did I do? Quietly backing out and closing the front door, I rang the doorbell of my next door neighbor.

Me: “Um, my lights don’t turn on, do you have electricity by any chance?” (Thinking the electricity’s off in the whole building perhaps, but asking a stupid question as I can clearly see the lights are on in her apartment.)

Lovely neighbor that she is, Gayane helps me troubleshoot the situation. After a few questions, she gets to the kicker:

Gayane: “Do you have any outstanding payments on your electricity bill?”

What Happens When You Can't Go Back?

What happens when you can't go back? Not because you physically can't go back, but because you're no longer able to adapt, to that pace, to that lifestyle that is North America. What do you do then?
(some thoughts after meeting with a fellow repat and strolling the streets of Yerevan)

Being the Bridge Connecting Armenia to the Diaspora & Vice-Versa

Probably the hardest thing I find about living in Armenia is being The Bridge. The Bridge between Armenians living in Armenia and those in the Diaspora (interestingly, this feeling of being a bridge doesn’t arise in quite the same way with non-Armenians).

Having just returned from a few weeks visiting family in Toronto, I feel like I have to make time to visit various family members in my first week back. Honestly, I haven’t had a day off from family (and family drama). The expectation of news from abroad and most likely gifts and — ideally — money. I am an unofficial Fed Ex employee, Western Union agent, and carrier pigeon all rolled into one. None of these are roles I particularly enjoy or wished for myself. But, alas, it comes with being Armenian and visiting the homeland (more so if you have family in Armenia).

I have spent the better part of my week back meeting with family and sharing details of family in Toronto. How can I explain to someone who’s never lived or even been abroad how life is not only difficult in Yerevan, but elsewhere too? How it’s colder in Toronto, takes 1–2 hours to get around (especially in traffic) and the sheer volume and variety of products in stores is enough to make your head spin (not in a good way). How it’s not what you imagine it to be, though I understand how life in Yerevan is not perfect either.

Being in Toronto makes me miss Yerevan and being in Yerevan makes me long for the smooth sidewalks and roadways of Toronto, government agencies that function and the availability of eggs (and other items) in stores year round.

But who to tell about the wonderful Yerevan weather (more sun and always much, much warmer than Toronto), the 10 minutes it takes to get around town (and, if you choose to, you can even walk or bike it), and the people who call you ջան (jan) only a minute after meeting you and who make you feel like you’re family.

The important thing I’ve realized is to appreciate the beauty and make the most of wherever you happen to be. The other important thing I’ve realized is though I understand and empathize with my family in Toronto and my family in Yerevan, I find it difficult to explain the experiences and viewpoint of the other to them. Too often I take on the burden of explaining, but no avail. In the end, the only thing I achieve is burn out.

Have you experienced this feeling of being a bridge between two cultures or two communities? If so, how do you deal with the issue? Do you manage or do you feel burned out (like I do)?