All my life I’ve labeled myself as an introvert. I prefer peace and quiet. Being around people drains me. I draw myself up into my head and become comfortable there. For me, solitude is serenity. I wake up early, go for a walk on my own, and grab a cup of coffee. I sit and read a book, draw, and make crafts. I steep myself in my own thoughts– I’ve got a whole world inside my head to use my energy on.

In America, I made my peace with this part of myself. It’s easy to be introverted back home. People understand what it is to be one. Americans value privacy and time to themselves, so if you want to retreat, you’re free to do so. No one will come knocking on your door if you close it.

This translates to our friendships too. Sometimes it takes weeks to set a date to spend time with a friend, you could go years without hugging them. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing , something I love about American friendships is that you can just pick up where you left off– no matter how long its been. But at its worst, our culture can by hyperindivdualistic, isolating and cold.

In Armenia, introverts don’t exist and privacy is a foreign concept. Neighbors and friends show up at your house, uninvited. Conversations last late into the night, you may not make it to your room until midnight. Armenians love to go to bed late and wake up early. Their social battery never drains; there’s always time for coffee, cognac, cigarettes, candy and gossiping. Your cheeks will be kissed, tugged on, and your hair will be stroked.

Everyday when I come home from training, I walk into my tatik’s store to give her a hug and ask her how her day is going. When I walk up the stairs to my apartment, my aunt is waiting for me to sit and chit chat. My host sisters come in and out of our apartment freely, and sometimes the neighbors kid is dropped off unannounced for us to babysit. People are around you, constantly. When you’re sick, when you’re tired, when you’re happy, when you’re sad– there is always someone there to witness it.

As we went through staging and the first few weeks of PST, I thought I was bound to get burnt out. I’m a month in, and while I’ve felt frustrated and tired, I don’t want to withdraw. I’m up late into the night, trying to piece together what my host family is saying and cracking jokes with my broken Armenian.

When I go to bed, I’m exhausted, but I’m not drained. Realizing this, I remembered a conversation I had a conversation with one of my friends, Gino, during our orientation week.

“I think introverts might only be closed off until they find somewhere or something that makes them sparkle.”

This made me stop and think for a second. I was an introvert until now. In the words of Carrie Bradshaw, I couldn’t help but wonder what about Armenia makes me “sparkle”?

I talked with another friend from my cohort who considers himself an introvert, Calvin. While he loves how hospitable Armenians are, everyday he takes time to himself to recharge. He’s been able to communicate this to his host family, who give him the space he needs.

This response is something I admire about Armenian culture. If you are direct, your needs are respected and valued. I think Americans balk when you are straightforward about how you feel and what you need– niceties are a part of social cohesion.

What Armenians have that Americans lack is authenticity in abundance. Oftentimes at home, relationships can feel transactional and detached. For introverts, they can feel rehearsed and surface level. Oftentimes, circumstances have to be exactly right for you to spend time with your friends. You might have work friends, school friends, family friends whose paths never cross.

Here, these connections are as normal as breathing. They start within your family and stem out into your community. If you’re sick, half your village knows instantly because your tatik has called to tell everyone. When I needed help connecting with the cultural house in my town, my host sister said ‘that’s our neighbor!’ and gave me the director’s phone number. Whatever you’re going through, people are sitting with you through it, offering you sweets, coffee and tea. Armenians show up those they love completely and consistently.

Part of my introversion back home is creating a space to be myself, authentically. Here, I am welcome to be myself around the other volunteers in my cohort. I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by people I really click with. In my host family, I have become their fourth daughter, everyday they try to understand the parts of myself I share with them.

What makes PCV introverts ‘sparkle’ in Armenia is a culture where presence is the default, not the exception. It’s a culture where you’re not asked to perform, just to show up.

1. Sparkle On!
2. Making vodka with the host family
3. Cayden hauling mashed grapes
4. A meal my host family ate for Motherhood and Beauty Day on April 7th
5. A cognac bottle my host aunt made for me in the shape of the Armenian letter M
6. Me and my host aunt
7. Painting my nails with my host aunt
8. Cayden playing the guitar for our host brother
9. My friends 😀
10. My awesome LCF Marine
11. More of my friends