On a street in Gyumri, there's a dilapidated wooden door that leads to the home of Sahakanoush Khachatryan and her daughter Shoushanik.

While walking past that door on two consecutive days, the mother and daughter poked their heads out to see the comings and goings on the street. It's a daily ritual of theirs.

The two are also in the habit of conserving electricity; even at night. Once Shoushanik has gone to bed, her mom will turn off the light and use the walls and furniture as a guide to her own bed.

If they can't fall asleep, the women will turn on the old Soviet TV and watch some boring shows until their eyes grow heavy.

"A neighbour's boy once asked if we had electricity in the house. I told him that we did, but that we prefer to watch TV in the dark," Sahakanoush says with a smile.

During the day, their main concern isn't cutting down on their utility bills but deciding what to eat. When it comes to food the women must also carefully ration so that their tab at the store doesn't get out of hand.

"The owner of our neighbourhood store tells us we can come and take whatever we need. But I have my honor to think of. And how will I ever pay all those bills. I do a bit of work here and there. We get by somehow. There's a loaf of bread on the table each day," Sahakanoush says.

The women can only dream of getting a job that will pay a stable income. Right now, Sahakanoush dreams of working as a cleaning attendant somewhere.

"I don't ask for much. If I could land a job paying 40-50,000 AMD that would be fabulous. We'd be able to live like normal people. I could find work for my daughter in the stores but she is an honest girl and they'd trick her or some such thing."

Shoushanik dreams of becoming a data processor but says that prospective employers never get back to her. "I'd even go to Yerevan for temporary work," she says.

Her mother is dead set against the idea.

"If the both of us went it would be all right. But for my daughter to go and leave me here alone is another matter," argues Sahakanoush.

The mother lost her husband and a 10 year-old daughter in the earthquake. The eldest daughter is married and the only one left to take care of her is Shoushanik.

Even the mention of Shoushanik's leaving for Yerevan sends chills up the mother's spine.

As I was preparing to leave, Sahakanoush pulled me aside and said, "You should write that the people are hurting. I don't say that they should give us money but we need work. We can't go on living like this."