Why We’re Phasing Out the Volunteer Program at Kalavan Retreat Center

For almost two years, the Kalavan Retreat Center has been Armenia's unofficial hub for international volunteers. We were one of the only Workaway hosts in this part of the world, and word spread quickly among travelers coming in from Georgia, Turkey, and Iran who were looking for a similar volunteer opportunity to what they found in those countries.

At its best, it was beautiful. Nearly 200 people came from every corner of the world. They cohabitated, improved their surroundings in a variety of ways, and left their mark on this house and this land. Our reputation grew, and soon we were getting new requests to come stay with us on an almost daily basis.

But as our reputation grew, something else started to happen: an unexpected form of brand dilution. More and more people arrived with no idea who we were, what we stood for, or what life here demanded. They didn't read the information on our website. They didn't watch the documentary on our homepage. They didn't even look at or follow the explicit rules written on our walls.

As of August 2025, we have officially made the choice to begin to phase out the volunteer program at the Kalavan Retreat Center. It has simply become inequitable for us. In other words, the amount of effort we have to expend just to make sure that the people who want to come here understand what they are coming to is no longer worth it. And then once they're here, making sure they're working and making sure that they're happy here and not causing social problems has essentially become a full-time job.

This is not something we ever wanted to do. We wanted people who wanted to be here, who were prepared to work as required, who were eager to work and learn new skills, and be a part of this community here.

We have become so well-known now that people hear about us, but they don't hear anything that matters about us. We have extensive and specific messaging on our website, YouTube channel, Instagram page, and Workway profile.

We are very clear on who we are, what we're looking for, and what the experience of being here is going to be like. But none of that matters if people avoid reading anything about us or even watching videos or looking at a single photo before asking to come stay with us for weeks or months.

They know nothing about our values or what the social experience is like. They do not know a single thing about what their work obligations are going to be here. They think they're coming for a free holiday. They don't seem to know anything about taking responsibility for their lives or interacting in a healthy manner with other people. They behave like children, and I'm sick of spending my life raising other people's children.

Over time, the balance tipped. The good volunteers were still there, but they were drowned out by the ones who acted like children. And when child-adults show up, they don't just fail to help; they actively drain the life out of a place.

The distinction became painfully clear:

• Adult-adults understand responsibility. They sweep the floor if it's dirty, not because someone told them to, but because it's obvious. They see shared resources and ration them sensibly. They know how to adapt when the power goes out or the Wi-Fi drops.
• Child-adults, no matter their age, expect someone else to handle everything for them. They complain about bread not magically appearing, about dust in a rural house under construction, about the floor not being spotless as though it were a hotel failing.

A child-adult does not take responsibility for themselves, and they expect everyone around them, particularly the owner of the house they're staying in, to take responsibility for them. Why didn't you cook for me? Do you really expect me to bake my own bread? Why didn't you buy the type of jam that I like? Why is the kitchen dirty? Why is there dust in an active construction site?

The saddest part is what this behavior does to everyone else. The good volunteers, the ones who cook, clean, and work, become demoralized. They look around and see others freeloading and think, "Why am I the only one trying?"

The energy of the house shifts. Instead of joy and progress, there's tension and resentment. And for me, the host, every day becomes a matter of damage control. Instead of writing, planting, or building, I'm explaining why there are dead bugs on the windowsill, why roads in rural Armenia aren't paved, or trying to prevent minor social squabbles from turning into a riot.

After enough of these experiences, I realized something simple: I don't want to spend my adult life raising other people's children. That's what it had become, a never-ending babysitting job for grown adults who refused to act like adults. I started this program to build a culture of responsibility, creativity, and contribution. What I got instead was a revolving door of entitlement, freeloading, and complaints.

From now on, we will only host:

• Returning volunteers who have already demonstrated they understand what this place is about.
• Personal referrals from people we trust.
• Applicants who clearly show they've read, watched, and understood who we are by making it through a rigorous screening process. To get started, please fill out this form.

If you're dreaming of running a volunteer project, hear this:

• One bad volunteer can ruin an entire house.
• No amount of clear communication will stop people from ignoring information.
• Culture is fragile. Protect it with everything you have.
• Hosting should add joy to your life, not rob you of it.