
Here one can find interesting notes about Yerevan, Armenia, language and life.

When we talk about the quirky moments of our Kaliningrad trip, we cannot skip the trip itself. It was genuinely interesting: over five days we checked off a "chocolate-box" set of places â the Curonian Spit, a walk along the Baltic coast â windy yet truly atmospheric. We visited the Amber Museum. We strolled through the Dancing Forest â it really is fairy-tale; you can imagine yourselves as characters from Hoffmann's contemporary stories. We went to the oceanography museum. By chance we ended up in the cathedral for Gunnar Idenstam's concert â unbelievable luck; back in 2021 stars still came from there. He is a fantastic Swedish organist-improviser. The concert combined classical pieces and improvisations on well-known rock songs. We took a city tour with a witty guide â straight out of Hoffmann. Verdict: we caught the full vibe. Photo attached.

There is plenty of debate around this holiday. Its roots go back to the ancient Celts (the Samhain festival): people believed that on special days the boundary between worlds thinned and the souls of ancestors could visit the living. Later Halloween was linked to the eve of All Saints' Day (All Hallows' Eve), so it picked up a Christian tint. Over time the holiday became commercial: decorations appeared, often barely related to the Celtic tradition.
There are curious details. The first "lanterns" with scary faces were carved in Ireland and Scotland from rutabagas and turnips; later, already in America, people switched to pumpkins. One way or another, many treat Halloween as a carnival where you can try on a different persona.
At our school we hold a charity Halloween fair every year: everyone brings crafts and goodies made by hand, and the money raised goes to different funds. The scary holiday turns cheerful and kind. In the evening we invited our community to celebrate together â meat baked inside a pumpkin was the treat. In Armenia people view the holiday with skepticism, perhaps because of religion. Mostly relocants celebrate it.
How do you feel about it?

Previously in this saga: car sharing â lost documents â Putilkovo, losing the suitcase â a chat with a "professional", buying tickets that did not exist â selling my immortal soul to Stanislavsky's descendant.
After that everything goes relatively smoothly. I board the plane and message Alina. She writes that she left the suitcase at the airport. I reply that we are doing great: I had one task on this trip â keep track of the bank card. I lost it. Alina had one goal â do not forget the suitcase. She forgot it. That means Vlad is the responsible one. As soon as I send the message, I get: "Vlad lost Zabivaka."
Zabivaka is the wolf cub mascot of the Russian Olympic Games, a small plush traveler. But we never got to walk around Kaliningrad with Zabivaka. When I landed in Kaliningrad I asked every airport employee I saw, but there was no Zabivaka.
Life starts to settle down â at half past nine I pick up the car from the rental agent, punch "Baltic 25" into the navigator, and drive off. I quickly leave the airport onto a wide high-speed highway. Soon the navigator tells me to turn and weave through narrow capillaries. I reach Baltic Street and start doubting. We were supposed to live on the fifth floor, yet every house here is two stories at most. I pass an old man with a walker and bottles, park the car, and pace the street again: house 25 is a two-story cottage. Suspicion confirmed. A search for "Baltic 25" in the navigator shows five results. Digging through the chat I find the full address. We need Solnechnogorsk, not Zelenogradsk, where I ended up. The ride back leads from the alley capillaries to the street vessels and the artery of the expressway. One last little adventure â Alina keeps calling while I climb off a wild interchange. The call hides the navigator I am watching out of the corner of my eye so I do not crash on the dark expressway. Mere trifles. At half past eleven we reunite, and everything goes surprisingly smoothly after that.
The Dancing Forest, Hoffmann, the organ concert â we will write about those separately.
Final bookmark. I wrote earlier that I was wrong to assume the Aeroflot ticket clerk was a professional who cared. When we handed over our passports for the flight out of Kaliningrad, Alina and Vlad received their boarding passes, and I heard, "There is nothing for you." Ironically, as an App In The Air analytics engineer, I was working with multi-leg itineraries right then. Somehow I did not know that canceling one leg voids the rest. Another split. I bought a ticket for the nearest flight to Vnukovo, rode the express, hopped into car sharing at ZIL Station, and drove into the yard at the same time as Alina and Vlad in their taxi.

Alina takes the mic.
Vlad looks at me with huge frightened eyes and says, "Mom, I don't know." We walk back into the terminal, I glance at the taxi desk and see our suitcase standing there serenely. It is practically within arm's reach, but we have already left the building, and the only way back to the desk is through check-in. We ask the staff to roll the suitcase over to us; they stare wide-eyed, clearly wishing we would disappear because they have no idea what to do. Finally the senior employee says, "Your suitcase will be taken to lost and found, processed there, and only after that can you request it." I insist they give it to me now rather than after some strange bureaucratic delay. I offer to list everything inside so they can check. Suddenly they engage with the problem and suggest, "Show us your boarding passes." I happily dig into my pocket, pull out the passes and proudly show them: "Here they are!" Their eyes go even wider. I look down and realise the cards are blank slips of paper â perfume spilled nearby and the alcohol erased the print.
While I am talking to the airport staff, I text Arseniy asking him to send the boarding passes. When he does not answer, I delegate the task to Vlad. After a while the photos of our boarding passes arrive. The staff ask, "Why don't you have your boarding passes?" I explain that there were three of us flying, and the passes remained with the person who never boarded. Their confusion grows, my tension does not subside. They ask, "Do you have passports?" Shaking our passports, I say, "Give us our suitcase! Do we look like terrorists?!"
You would not believe it, but the suitcase starts rolling our way. I text Arseniy that we have it and, apparently, are heading toward Svetlogorsk. Sitting in the car, catching my breath and driving past a huge Zabivaka statue, I joke with Vlad: "Look, what a Zabivaka! And where is yours?" Vlad replies, "I don't know, I think I lost it." I write to Arseniy, "When you arrive in Kaliningrad, try to find a Zabivaka at the airport." His reply pops up that very moment.

Arseniy takes the mic.
The previous post was hefty and still not enough, so the story continues.
I make it to the Aeroflot desk, explain the situation, and naĂŻvely expect the clerk to care. He doesn't â yet a ticket appears, two hours later than the flight Alina and Vlad are on.
Next problem: the rental car. The pickup is booked for 19:00, but I will land closer to 21:00. I message the rental office; a young man calls back. I float options â maybe cancel, maybe pick up tomorrow, maybe stop by their office. Long pauses. He explains they close at nine. More pauses. Then: for an extra fee they can deliver the car after hours. I brace for disaster and hear a modest â500 rubles.â Cursing him in my head for the dramatic pauses, I agree to meet the car at the airport around ten.
This negotiation happens while I ride the travelator toward the inter-terminal shuttle. Backpack, shoulder bag, another bag, tablet â and a crowd. The tablet rings: Vlad says Mom needs photos of the boarding passes. I juggle everything, launch the camera, get interrupted by another call, try again. Finally the photos go through, WhatsApp shows two check marks, and the shuttle arrives.
I tumble out of the shuttle still on the phone. Vlad insists the pictures never arrived; I insist they did. Rant over. Maybe Alina will pick up the story from here.

Today's illustration is a puzzle: spot the only parking space in Putilkovo.
Our heroes have burned through their buffer of time, documents, and nerves. Alina and Vlad board the plane, land in Kaliningrad, collect the suitcase â and realize it is gone the moment they sit in the taxi.
Arseniy grabs the mic.
In my timeline I watch Alina trudge toward the plane, step out of the crowd, and tense up about the documents. The bank card â and the entire wallet â must still be in the car-sharing car. Support confirms it and gives me the driver's phone. My documents are in Putilkovo, forty minutes away. One task at a time: reach the garage, grab another car, drive to Putilkovo.
I follow the navigator, take what looks like the right exit from the MKAD, and smack into a barrier. Seven hundred meters reversing under a chorus of honks: apparently I discovered a fake exit to Putilkovo.
Putilkovo is pure bedroom community â parking is mythical. But the patron saint of kids, drunks, and scrambled minds takes pity: one spot opens up. I meet the driver, his family sympathizes, we swap documents. Halfway down the stairs it hits me: I drove here to pick up my driver's license while already driving without it.
I get back to Sheremetyevo without incident; documents in hand, everything in order â except the tiny detail that the plane has long taken off. Alina texts that there are no more tickets to Kaliningrad today.

While we were debating how Arseniy would reach us once he foundâor failed to findâthe driver's license, the phone rang. A strict voice asked, âAre you still flying?â Vlad and I dashed toward our gate, tangled in staircases and exits, but reached it and boarded last under the passengers' stern stares.
I checked MoscowâKaliningrad tickets: none left for today. The flight itself was wonderful. For an hour and twenty minutes I unplugged from the situation, savored the anticipation of rest, read my book.
After landing it felt like things were finally working out. We were the very first to collect our suitcase â it had never arrived so quickly. I texted Arseniy; he replied that he had found the documents, returned to the airport and even bought a ticket for today, despite there having been none.
I called Mom, told her we had landed, and teased her with the riddle âThree people set out, two arrived.â I shared the incident; she concluded, âYou two make quite a couple.â Encouraged, Vlad and I headed for the taxi desk. The taxi showed up quickly, we got our receipt, and the driver led us to the car in the parking lot. I looked at Vlad and asked, âWhere is our suitcase?â

Arseniy takes the mic. Previously, our heroes left early, headed to Sheremetyevo via car-sharing, got frazzled, lost heaps of time on transponders and interchanges, and now they sprint with their bags toward the shuttle.
The shuttle ride from terminal to terminal and the long ramp chew up what little time we had left. Passport control, security. We stop by a cafe to grab a snack. Time to pay. I make the usual left-hand motion that should conjure the bank card. Nothing. I try again; same result. Two more attempts to fish the card out of its usual spot fail. The very storm stirred up by that butterfly's wing hits us full force.
The problem is not even the credit card itself: the entire stack of documents is missing, driver's license included. Everything lived together in the wallet. We have a packed cultural itinerary that hinges on renting a car.
Alina's phone rings: everyone is already seated on the plane waiting for us. As the classics say, "During this course Miles realized that failing to decide is often worse than choosing wrong." I insist that Alina and Vlad should fly while I stay behind to deal with the paperwork. Provocative questions follow: "What if you don't find it?" There is no time to talk, so we scatter in different directions.
From this moment the story splits into two parallel streams that occasionally intersect.

Arseniy takes the mic. Previously, our heroes left early and headed to Sheremetyevo using car-sharing.
The first storm clouds appeared after we passed Dolgoprudny and tried to conquer the automatic toll gate. As we later realized, squeezing into the transponder lane was a mistakeâright nearby was a lane for credit cards. Minus fifteen minutes from our buffer spent nudging forward and backward, trying to shout to an attendant, and tapping a bank card where a transponder was expected. Frazzled and distracted, we finally got through.
A cold breeze set in when we wondered, âWhere can we leave a car-sharing vehicle at Sheremetyevo?â The answer: at a terminal from which we had to take a shuttle to reach oursâanother fifteen minutes gone. An hour and twenty, minus fifteen, minus fifteen again equals a fifty-minute reserve.
The first chilly drops hit when we discovered that the approach to the Sheremetyevo parking lot resembled a bowl of spaghetti, with only one of dozens of exits leading to the garage that accepts car-sharing cars. Three victory laps around the garage cost us half an hour. Finally, thoroughly on edge and with just fifteen minutes left, we pulled into the garage.
Unload the car. Double-check everything. Frazzled, we slam the doors, return the car through the app, and dash out of the garage. I carefully ask Alina and Vlad whether they left anything behind and urge them to check twice. Thunder rumbles. Navigating out of the garage gobbles up what remained of our buffer. We sprint toward the terminal with zero minutes to spare.

As promised, we write in the style of a âletter from Prostokvashino.â The mic goes to Alina.
Hi everyone! The poll winner was âStories from life and tripsâ. Second place went to two other topicsâwe'll cover them later. Today we turn the calendar back almost five years to tell the story of our spectacular trip to Elista Kaliningrad, part 1.
During Vlad's school break we decided to travel together. At first we chose Elista: Asian flavor, Buddhism, the magic Poplarâit sounded intriguing. Arseniy had been there and liked it; also in April it's warmer than in Moscow. Tickets bought, hotel booked.
Then came February 2022. Flights to some destinations were suspended. Elista was on the list. We had to return tickets and cancel the hotel. âHow about Kaliningrad? They say it's beautiful!â â âLet's go!â Tickets bought, hotel chosen. Plan: three days in Svetlogorsk (with a car to see the surroundings) and two days in Kaliningrad. Sounds like a plan!
Red flags started when the apartment owner told us the day before that he couldn't check us in due to heating issues. We canceled that option, frantically searched and booked another. Departure day! Vacation mode onâtime to travel.
Task #1. Carâsharing or taxi? After a short discussion we chose carâsharing. With time to spareâjust in case.

Let's sample posts according to the poll results. The winner was âStories from life and trips.â It's time to digitize our Kaliningrad journey. Many friends heard this as a standâup story; now it's a âletter from Prostokvashino.â
The Beginning. By Arseniy.
Nothing foreshadowed anything. We left home with an hour and twenty to spareâfour hours before the departure from Sheremetyevo. A small argument: taxi or carâsharing? A flap of a butterfly's wingâand we chose carâsharing.

Continuing the âRentâ series â today from the landlord's perspective.
There are different ways to rent out a flat in Moscow: yourself or via services. For two years we've been using Yandex.Rent and here is our experience.
What's convenient:
What's not so convenient:

Barev everyone! Today â practical matters: rent. Whether you are a landlord or a tenant, the word usually comes with hassle. Right now we are both: in Yerevan we rent, in Moscow we lease out our flat. Today â about us as tenants.
We started with list.am: filters by rooms, price, district are convenient. The minus is many fake listings. Often realtors reply: you call about a specific ad â they say it's already rented but âwe have other options.â We weren't lucky with the app and turned to a realtor.
We didn't choose at random â we followed a friend's recommendation and never regretted it. Our realtor is Nikolay â for us, a benchmark of professionalism, kindness and charisma.
In Armenia the rental income tax is 10%, but many landlords don't pay it. If you need registration at the residence address, a landlord who doesn't declare income can refuse.
Once you choose an option, you sign a contract, pay the commission and move in. Our realtor arranged the move and negotiated the initial price down. For the first flat he also negotiated buying missing items: microwave, iron, vacuum cleaner. We got lucky â not all do this.
In short: you can search yourself for free, or pay a commission and get a service â help with the move and carrying things. We can share our realtor's contacts and recommend him. The photo of our move between apartments is a bonus.

As promised, here is a small spoon of tar in our barrel of Yerevan honey. Today â a few cons, mostly about prices.
That's our list for today; everyone's experience will differ.

We continue the list of âprosâ of life in Yerevan.
Pros:

As mentioned earlier, our one-and-a-half-day getaway was full of places and activities. On day two we found a dive club on the lakeshore. The âAltitude 1900â club can be found on Booking, on their website or on Google Maps. They also offer hotel servicesârooms are small but fine to stay overnight. There is diving gear rental and SUP boards. The weather favored usâsunny and calmâso we rented SUPs and enjoyed a pleasant 1.5âhour paddle on a mirrorâsmooth lake.
Even during the phone booking, the service pleasantly surprised me. The club director turned out to be very friendly and gladly answered all our questions. Absolutely Europeanâlevel service.
As a bonus, the company is a distributor of ScubaPro gearâclothing and accessories for water sportsâat procurement prices. For reference: we found a similar shop in Moscow, and prices there were roughly 1.5Ă higher. We couldnât resist and bought a few things.
There is also a small cafĂ© on the grounds where you can have a tasty snack: sandwiches, fries, pancakes, coffee and tea. Prices are perfectly reasonable. The territory is bright and stylishâphotos attached.


Our spontaneous trip turned out to be very rich and memorable for just one and a half days. Step by step. Today we talk about the hotel where we stayed â Tsovasar Family Rest Complex.
We booked a room with a kitchen-living room, bedroom and a balcony overlooking Sevan. The weather at the lake is very pleasant at this time: sunny and calm during the day, air temperature 20â22âŻÂ°C and water about 19âŻÂ°C. Impressions of the hotel:
You can have lunch or dinner at the restaurant. The menu is tasty and varied, mostly Armenian cuisine. A full dinner for three cost us 20âŻ000 drams including service. Our Telegram post with the restaurant menu.
The area has many gazebos, benches and lounge areas. There is also a place to barbecue. Price: 36âŻ000 drams per night. In our opinion the price matches the quality.
Since our channel is also about the Armenian language, let's look at the word ÔŸŐžŐŸŐĄŐœŐĄÖ (Tsovasar). It consists of two parts: ÔŸŐžŐŸ (tsov) â âseaâ and ŐœŐĄÖ (sar) â âmountain.â Altogether it means âsea mountain.â

After two years of living in Armenia, in Yerevan, we put together a list of pros and cons that may help anyone considering Yerevan as a place to live. A small disclaimer: for us the pros still outweigh any consâwe love Yerevan as it is, cozy and homely.
Pros:

One of the toughest questions of relocation is how a child will react. It is stressful for an adult, and doubly so for a teenager. When we discussed moving, Vlad was 12œ; he moved at 13. Choosing a school was fundamental. I carefully studied school channels; here is the main channel again. It has a handy table listing schools and tuition. Based on parent comments and our vision we considered private schools with smaller classes and more attentive teachers. Entrance exams reduce the risk of bullying.
At the time our friends lived in Yerevan and helped with advice on choosing schools and stories about life there, convincing us that our choice of country and city was a good idea. They later moved to Scotland where Olga runs an interesting blog about life there and the antique trade. From the list we looked at the Free School, Newberg and Perspektiva. All had good reviews and a young team of passionate teachers. During our summer vacation we decided to visit Yerevan, tour the schools, meet the principal, head teacher and teachers, and see the neighborhoods and buildings. We made appointments. In Perspektiva and the Free School, Vlad took entrance exams in Russian, math and English. At Newberg we saw the building and met the director. Atmosphere-wise Vlad liked Newberg most, but we did not attend the exams in person.
After returning to Moscow he took Russian and math exams online, had an interview in English and a talk with a psychologist. He was accepted into 7th grade. We do not regret this choice: he studies with pleasure and met good classmates. We formed a community with their parents. The only downside for me is that our school cannot provide an international diploma, unlike the Free School with international accreditation or, additionally, BISA (a Cambridge-accredited school). Another plus of our school is its location in the cleaner and cooler Arabkir district.
Back to worries: the move was easy for our child. He packed with us, helped choose an apartment (that will be a separate post) and enthusiastically joined the preparations despite concerns about new classmates and teachers. Of course, it all depends on the child.
Here is my personal list of private and public schools (based on what I read in channels and our experience).
Private
Cons:
Pros:
Public
Pros:
Cons:
Documents from a Russian school are easy to retrieve: come, write an application and take your personal file.
If you have any questions, feel free to ask in the comments.

Let's go back to 2023 when we prepared to move. This is the first post of the series.
The first question was where to go. To stay close to relatives we considered only visa-free countries. The first candidate was Serbia. We read channels and articles, exchanged euros, estimated monthly expenses, looked at school options. A sad finding: in winter the air pollution index on iqair.com goes off the scale. In Yerevan it isn't perfect either, but more about that later. We planned to visit Moscow a couple of times a year, and the price of a direct MoscowâBelgrade flightâ230 thousand rublesâmade this plan unrealistic. For Armenia the price is about 75â100 thousand rubles for three adults, with many direct flights of Russian airlines (Aeroflot, UTair, Ural Airlines etc.) and Armenian onesâShirakAvia, FlyOne Armenia. The final step before choosing Armenia was to find a school. We searched via channels t.me/ru_schools_armenia and t.me/erevanmoms.
Here is our relocation checklist:
Power of attorney for a close relative
Needed to represent your interests in organizations. If you plan to rent out your apartment, mention this as a separate item.
Withdraw cash rubles for exchange in Armenia
Russian bank cards are not accepted for payment, so you need cash. The best dram/ruble rate is in SAS exchange officesâa department store chain in Yerevan. You can track favorable rates in Telegram channels, e.g. t.me/armeniaCurrency.
Obtain a residence permit or plan visa runs
A non-resident may stay in Armenia for 180 days; afterward a visa run is required. Our residence permit was arranged by an employer. A child under 18 can stay in Armenia without crossing the border every six months.
Choose a school
We'll cover school selection in a separate post.
Choose an apartment
Armenian channels offer many rental options; there is list.am where in the long-term rental section one can pick an apartment. The downside of this site is many fake listings from realtors. We used a realtor recommended by friends.
Rent out your apartment
We used Yandex.Rent to lease our Moscow flat. You don't have to meet the tenant; you choose one via an application form. There's a contract. The downside is that it's harder to rent out. For tenants the service adds a 7% monthly commission to the rent.
Set up essential services
Download necessary appsâbanking, Gosuslugi, mos.ru, the taxpayer's cabinet. All apps work via VPN.
Check for outstanding debts: unpaid fines, child support...
Otherwise you may not be allowed to leave the country.

It may seem strange to find a programming section on a site about Armenian words and notes about Yerevan.
After leaving my accounting career, I chose to retrain as a frontend developer. After a Practicum course I kept writing training programs in JS and exploring HTML and CSS.
At the same time we tried to learn Armenian. The alphabet was a barrier: it is bigger than the Russian one, upper and lowercase letters differ, and no simple self-study guides combined picture, word, meaning and pronunciation.
We noticed many signs with Armenian words duplicated in Russian or Latin letters, making the alphabet easier to grasp. So we launched a simple HTML/CSS/JS project for newcomers like us and added a blog section about JavaScript basicsâafter all, it is a language too.

We live in the Arabkir district. It is considered prestigious locally, less expensive than Kentron (the center) and at the same time less dusty and cooler, which matters in summer.
When a Muscovite hears the word "park," they picture Troparyovsky Park, Izmailovsky Park or Neskuchny Garden with vast green areas. In Yerevan, only the Botanical Garden and the park around the Armenian Genocide Museum resemble them. The rest are small cozy squares, and not every district has one.
Arabkir is lucky to have the Nork Arabkir park with a stunning view of the Hrazdan Gorge, a pleasant walkway under conifers and a fountain. Our child's school is nearby, and we stroll here with friends while walking their dog.
One warm summer evening we saw THIS on the park path! The photo is blurry because it moved quickly. Armenia is rich in snakes thanks to its mountainous dry climate, including venomous species like the viper. We googled, asked friends, even showed it to our son's biology teacher. The verdict: a slow worm, a legless lizard harmless to people. Still, we were quite startled when the plump meter-long reptile hurried across the path.

Hello everyone! Today we examine a very common word we see on city streets: the Armenian for "pharmacy"âÔŽÔ”ŐÔ±ŐŐŐ (degh-a-tun). It combines Ő€Ő„ŐČ meaning "medicine" and ŐżŐžÖŐ¶ meaning "house," literally "house of medicine."
Once while walking through Arabkir near Druzhba station, we stopped by a pharmacy and, to our surprise, saw an owl in the middle of the room. Motionless, it mechanically turned its head at regular intervals. We thought nothing of it and went home.
A year later we learned the owl was alive. The pharmacy owner, Artur, had rescued her after a car accident. She lost a wing and now lives in the pharmacy. Her name is Lurik, and she is a small landmark of Komitas Street. The shop itself feels like a magic box with hidden doorsâbut that is another story.

At the foot of the majestic Cascade stands a monument dedicated to Alexander Tamanianâa great man with a troubled life. He was the visionary behind the master plan of Yerevan, the very layout we see today.
During the day, winds from the Ararat Valley dominate. But in the evening, a fresh and clean mountain breeze sweeps down in the opposite direction. Tamanian designed Yerevanâs streets like a one-way aerodynamic valve: heat and dust gradually permeate the city during the day, but are quickly flushed out in the evening.
Now, letâs take a closer look at the inscription on the monument. The letters spell ŐÔ±ŐÔżÔ±ŐÔșÔ”Ő. A rough transliteration would be âts-ar-t-ar-ar-pet.â But be careful: the initial âtsâ sound is unique to the Armenian language and can be very difficult to pronounce correctly. If you want to master it, itâs best to hear it from an Armenian friendâor even take a few lessons.