5 Reasons Why My Host Family Is Amazing

Amy Gavroian
Fowler, CA, United States

Coming to Armenia, I had no idea what it would mean to live with a host family. Was I going to stay locked in my room? Have to use my hands to communicate? Would the food be alright? All of these questions worried me a bit until the moment I walked into the home of my Gyumri homestay, the Ambardaryans. I walked in, we ate dolma, and then became best friends forever.  I love my Gyumri family for a million reasons, but, if I could list a few reasons why, it would be these:

Reason #1- I know I’m not the greatest cook in the world, but, I thought that I could at least master frying potatoes. I thought that all humans were born with potato-making skills. But in the end, it turns out that I am quite horrible at even that. I was about to go to an international potluck, and after hours of burning potatoes, I decided to take what I had and hoped maybe someone liked charcoal-flavored spuds. So, I went to the party, ate the delicious food that others brought, and then realized the potatoes were hardly touched. I showed back up at my host family’s house and as I walked in they looked at my Tupperware full of potatoes and they asked why nobody ate them. I opened the lid to remind them of how burnt they were, and they waved their hands in the air as if saying, “oh, that’s no problem!”  Then they sat me down at the dining room table, and feeling bad that nobody ate my potatoes, they brought out plates and started eating them and kept saying, “MMM!” really loud in order to make me feel better.

Reason #2-We had dance parties. All the time.

Reason #3-Every time I learned a new word in Armenian, they would write it on a post-it note and post it on the refrigerator so that I could see it every day and keep practicing. 

Reason #4- I got pretty sick, like most travelers do, and wanted to do nothing but lie in bed. I was giving my tummy a time-out and only eating bread or rice. As I was lying in bed, my host sister cooked up some plain spaghetti noodles for me. She then brought them to me in my room along with some extra pillows so I could sit up and eat. Then she went back to the kitchen, grabbed her dinner, and then came back to my room so that I wasn’t eating alone. But then I saw her plate, also full of plain noodles, gave her some crazy eyes and asked why she didn’t put the sauce on hers. She said, “No, I’m going to eat plain noodles, too, so that you don’t get jealous.”

Reason #5- From the minute I walked in, until today, even when I have moved out, they continue to keep me as a part of their family, and have welcomed me as if I myself am an Ambardaryan.