The night before had ended up as an impromptu vodka-party with a bunch of Iranian tourists. When I woke up this morning, I was hardly able to move. And since it was the weekend and there was no way to apply for my visa anyway, I decided to stay in.
I went out in the early evening, when the sun was just about to set, and I looked for a place to take my daily selfie in the neighborhood:
Yerevan was a bit like Almaty – the building fronts looked well-kept and at times even impressive. But the back alleys had a different feel to them:
I liked it.
One time an old lady who had seen me struggle with my selfie-taking procedures came out of her building and pointed at this sunflower:
It took me a while to understand that she was trying to help me find something nice to photograph.
I walked around some more and into the night. Yerevan, just like any post-Soviet city, had a Pushkin street:
There was a graffito that said GOVERNMENT IS NOT A MAFIA:
I figured it probably had something to do with the recent protests that had culminated in a peaceful revolution.
And then there was a mirror that said BEAUTY AS A LIFESTYLE:
I thought of the sunflower, and then I thought that Yerevan was full of subtle messages.