Going to the gym in Armenia can be a funny experience. First of all, you have to understand that for most people here, who are barely eking out an existence, exercise, in the Western sense of the word, is a luxury – think Back to the Future Part III, when the old-timer in the saloon says, “Run for fun? What the hell kinda fun is that?” If you're one of the lucky Armenians with a stable job, you are in the honored position to be able to support your family, your parents, and yourself; unfortunately, you probably still do not make enough money to throw any part of it away on something as frivolous as gym membership (or even sneakers, for that matter).
As far as I am aware, there are no public health clubs outside Yerevan, but here in the capital city, there is enough business to support several; of these, we have experience with two distinct types. When we arrived in Yerevan in 2008, Jarred started going to one near our apartment called Hayastan Gym, which represents the first type: the amateurish, unhealthy kind. While it was nice to pay only 1500 dram (US $3.75) per visit, no membership required, it was nearly impossible for him to overlook the gym’s myriad problems (though I’m sure no one else there saw them that way):
- Dark, damp locker rooms with rusty metal lockers
- Perpetually broken cardio machines
- No one wearing sport clothes – women exercising in high heels
- No lane ropes in the pool, so people swim any way they want, including the short way across the pool’s width
- A full bar on the pool deck
- People smoking on the pool deck
- Well-maintained, well-lit locker rooms with dark wood lockers
- Spacious, bright child care room
- High-quality machines and equipment
- Large variety of group classes
- Appropriate workout attire requirements, plus a shop selling name-brand gear
- Olympic-size pool, lane ropes, diving platforms, viewing areas
- Personal trainers for hire
- No smoking
Another issue is sexist trainers. Ok, they’re not all sexist, but there is one guy in particular who, while assisting a female friend of ours, told her she couldn’t lift weights a certain way because that was how men did it, and women should do it differently. Hmmm...
Jarred frequently schedules massages in the in-house spa, but the masseuse is terrible about keeping her appointments. Sometimes she’ll schedule clients without telling the front desk receptionist, which obviously leads to problems. And last week, Jarred was signed up for a one-hour massage, but as it turned out, the person scheduled before him had arrived 20 minutes late (the masseuse took him for his full hour anyway), and there was another person in line after him, so she gave Jarred only 30 minutes.
The thing that probably annoys me the most is the child care room. It’s a clean, fun place for Nathan to hang out while we exercise, but depending on which teacher is on duty, I may decide to have a quick workout and get him out of there as soon as possible. There is one teacher we really like; she’s friendly, patient, energetic, speaks English well and tries to help Nathan learn Armenian, and she allows him to bring a snack to eat while he’s in the child care room. The other teacher moves slowly, rarely smiles, never allows food or drinks, can’t understand Nathan’s English even though he’s been going there for years, and once, she got so fed up with Nathan’s antics that she smacked him on the arm. (Imagine if that happened in the States!) We were pretty pissed when Nathan told us about this and reported the incident to the manager, and it hasn’t happened again, but I still get nervous dropping Nathan off with her.
I would probably have a lot less to complain about if the American contractor who helped to build and manage the gym during its first few years (whose name, coincidentally, is Jim) hadn’t left to open another Gold’s in Dubai in 2010. When he was around, things ran smoothly. If they didn’t, he handled it. Like the time I told him that two male maintenance workers had walked into the women’s locker room without warning to repair something, catching several ladies, including myself, off guard. After hearing my story, he ordered gym employees to ensure that it wouldn’t happen again by providing a couple minutes of advance notice to everyone in the locker room so that they could finish their showers and/or cover themselves up before male workers were to arrive. When one employee tried to protest that it wasn’t always possible to give advance notice or make multi-lingual announcements, Jim reminded her of his oft-repeated lesson, a concept staff members were apparently having a difficult time grasping: “The customer is always right.”
Honestly, the reason I started this post was to discuss the most uniquely amusing (or amusingly unique?) aspect of being a member of the Gold’s Gym in Yerevan, and that is the clientele. Because of the cost, only well-to-do Armenians and members of the international community can afford to join. This means that, as representatives of QSI, we have to be prepared to network at any given moment – on a bike, in the pool, or in the nude. I've been in the awkward position of meeting a Delegate of the European Union, whose children attend our school, in nothing but a towel. Jarred has seen the ambassadors of certain nations in nothing at all. (Why are we Americans so prudish?) And like anywhere else in Yerevan, people come to Gold’s dressed to impress, and don’t leave the locker room until they return fully to that state, hair styled, lips painted, and stockinged heels a-clicking. Unless you want to stand out like a sore thumb, you’d better do the same. Heaven forbid you should leave the gym in your sweats!
Speaking of impressions, I mustn’t neglect to mention the fact that some people are there more as a display of status than actually to get in shape. How do I know this to be true? Why else would a big, fat man who goes to the gym every day and sits around ogling women never get any thinner? Why else would these same women, wearing the cutest, most form-fitting leotards and leggings and the trendiest little Reeboks do only minimal amounts of exercise (usually involving a hula hoop)? Why else would we see men and women speedwalking the treadmills at maximum incline, hanging onto the machines with their entire body weight? Why bother to go to the gym at all? The answer lies somewhere in this, my final anecdote, as it was told to us by one of the Gold’s sales associates, who is also a friend of ours:
A wealthy Armenian man went to Gold’s Gym to get some information about membership. After taking a tour and discussing the price, he happily agreed to come back at the end of the month to sign the contract. When he returned, the sales associate informed him that there was a special promotion for new members, so the cost would be lower than what he had previously agreed to pay. The man refused to accept the sale price, and insisted on paying the higher price they had discussed. The associate tried in vain to convince him to take the better offer, until the man finally explained his reasoning. He had just purchased for his automobile custom license plates bearing a pattern of lucky numbers that matched the membership fee he had expected to pay. Unable to argue with this logic, the sales associate signed him up and took his payment. It seems the wealthy Armenian man was only interested in exercising his wallet, for he has not been seen at the gym since that day.