The Power of Barev Dzez

Talene Boodaghians
(Wayside, NJ, USA)

My first week of communication in Armenia involved a lot of gesticulation and smiling.  I soon advanced into what I call the “Ayo” Phase.  About as complex as it sounds, this stage consists purely of dignifying any statement or question with “ayo,” “ha, ayo,” or some variation thereof.  As I a quickly learned, this approach has its drawbacks.  The time I mistakenly requested a massive amount of hot peppers on my kebab comes to mind.

Fortunately, Birthright Armenia arms even the most novice of speakers with the tools necessary for communication and ultimately, immersion.  The Eastern Armenian textbook written by Ms. Anahit Avetisyan, an outstanding author and passionate tutor in Yerevan, was extremely helpful.  Though I was only fortunate enough to have one language lesson with her on my first day in the country, I took her book and her encouragement with me to Gyumri.

As I began to familiarize myself with the spoken language, I realized that, when meeting someone for the first time in Armenia, there is so much to say!  As compared to my home in New Jersey, where even a brief wave of the hand acknowledged by a slight upward movement of the chin is a rarity, the opportunity to participate in this conversational ritual was exciting.  A basic exchange between two strangers in Armenia might sound something like this:

- Barev Dzez!

- Barev Dzez!

- Inch bes es?

- Lav em. Du?

- Yes el lav em.

- Urakh em.

- Yes el.

This Armenian greeting custom fails to translate as eloquently into English; informing a passerby on the streets of Ocean Township, New Jersey that “I am glad that you are fine” would undoubtedly be reciprocated with puzzled look. My advice to any volunteer beginning their Birthright journey would be to learn, if nothing else, these few valuable phrases as they are the door to unforgettable experiences with warm and welcoming locals.

Beginning with this very basic exchange of Armenian phrases, I sipped Hygagan soorj with a sweater vendor at Vernisage.  Asia is a woman in her seventies.  She has three children, two grandchildren, a quick wit, a big heart, and a talent for crocheting.  She spends three days making each sweater and sells her wears every weekend.

Rasmik is a Gyumretsi cow herder.  On our morning runs, the Gyumri volunteers would send our greetings to Rasmik and his cows as we ran passed the expansive wheat fields on the outskirts of the city. He would return the good wishes with not one, but five enthusiastic “Hajoghutyoon dzez”s in succession.  This fast became a much awaited morning ritual.  Eventually, Rasmik was invited to a picnic, where we ate, drank, and danced to Yerevani Akhchigneri in the wheat fields.  Though Rasmik was obliged to leave the party a bit early, as his cows began to wander away, our unforgettable picnic can be traced back to a single “Barev dzez.”

After living two months in Gyumri, Armenia, I am what I would consider conversational in Eastern Armenian.  While I am proud of the progress I have made here, I am not satisfied.  This I believe, is both a reason to continue my language studies when I return to the United States, and also a reason to return to Armenia better prepared to listen and contribute.”

If these conversational phrases are the door to unforgettable experiences, then Birthright Armenia surely holds the key.  The organization brought me to this country, armed me with the language skills that I needed, and re-connected me with an Armenian heritage that I felt was diluted before I arrived.  Whether you speak the language fluently, or like me, only have hopes of doing so one day, I urge to those considering it to come to Armenia ready to listen.  Listen to the stories of others, create your own, and share them in any language.

 

Mon Experience En Arménie

Jennifer Pichard
(Paris, France)

Descendante d’une famille arménienne ayant fuit le génocide depuis la ville de Tokat (Arménie occidentale en actuelle Turquie), je viens de passer quatre mois sensationnels sur mes terres d’origines. C’est notamment grâce à l’organisme Birthright Armenia (Depi Hayk), qui offre l’opportunité aux arméniens de la diaspora de venir en Arménie dans le cadre d’une mission volontariat, que ce premier voyage s’est rendu possible. Organisant par ailleurs excursions, forums de discussion, visites et proposant l’unique expérience de vivre au sein d’une famille arménienne, Depi Hayk est, en ce sens, le meilleur protagoniste pour rallier les générations issues du génocide à leur lieu d’attache de manière utile et constructive. Car non seulement, on obtient un tableau plus défini de la situation actuelle en Arménie mais en plus on acquière les connaissances indispensables pour participer intelligiblement à la construction d’un futur lumineux. J’ai choisi ici de relater mon histoire à travers une activité vécue de façon quasi-intensive durant ces quatre mois : la danse folklorique arménienne.

La danse a toujours été partie intégrante de ma vie ; elle me permet de m’exprimer en toute liberté sans aucune contrainte apparente. De nature réservée voire introvertie, je suis de celles qui parle, débat et répond avec le corps.

Voila pourquoi aussitôt arrivée à Erevan, je me suis renseignée sur la possibilité de prendre des cours de danse folklorique arménienne. Cela va sans dire que cela n’aurait eu aucun sens à mes yeux de pratiquer tout autre type de danse sur mes terres d’origine.

Baignée dans la culture française et n’ayant eu que rarement l’occasion de côtoyer mes origines arméniennes, je suis atterrie ici comme débarquant de nulle part. Pas d’apriori, ni expectations particulières, en d’autre terme aucune déception à l’horizon. La seule crainte qui m’envahissait fut celle de la langue, outil primordial à maitriser pour interagir avec son environnement. Cette crainte s’est avérée justifiée puisque mes conversations ne sont jamais rentrées en profondeur pendant les deux premiers mois. Il m’a donc fallu recourir à un moyen d’expression alternatif, la danse.

Je dois dire que les difficultés et obstacles rencontrés à l’oral ne sont jamais survenus sur scène. L’expression corporelle associée à la force des danses arméniennes inhibent toute timidité jusqu’à me rendre totalement arménienne. J‘ai commencé par assister à un cours pour les débutants et après plusieurs sessions le professeur Gagik Ginosyan m’a proposé de rejoindre le groupe des amateurs « Karin ». Ce fut une véritable victoire personnelle et le lourd héritage transmis par mes ancêtres fut désormais reconnu en tant que tel.

Car il ne s’agit pas d’effectuer de simple pas de danse, il s’agit là de raconter une histoire, de préserver des coutumes et traditions afin de perpétuer l’authentique émotion de cet art.

Préparation mentale et physique aux combats de guerre, femmes préparant le « matsoun », prière collective pour la tombée de la pluie, hommage aux défunts… l’héritage porté par les danses arméniennes est lourd, riche et varié.

J’ai eu par ailleurs le privilège de danser lors de la représentation publique de la troupe, au théâtre Stanislavski à Erevan. Je suis encore émue d’avoir inspiré une telle confiance à Mr. Ginosyan et ne serai jamais assez reconnaissante de sa gentillesse et de générosité. J’y ai ressenti sur scène une émotion incroyable, mais plus que tout le sentiment d’appartenir à un groupe qui partage les mêmes racines et une passion absolue pour cet art.

Enfin, le dernier vendredi de chaque mois nous avons cette prodigieuse opportunité de danser parmi la population locale, qui n’a pas forcément les moyens ou le temps de prendre des cours par ailleurs. Durant ces quelques heures nous sommes tous unis et égaux, profitant de chaque instant de partage qui nous est offert. Je dois dire que ce jour représente la plus belle récompense que je ne pouvais souhaiter d’une telle aventure : celle d’enseigner la danse folklorique arménienne à des enfants d’Arménie.

À tous les Arméniens de la diaspora qui liront cette histoire, je vous incite pleinement à venir vivre une telle rencontre car ce n’est qu’en Arménie qu’elle pourra naitre…

Merci Depi Hayk !

 

Running with a Smile

Cerise Fereshetian
(Dresher, PA, USA)

I have this funny habit of smiling while I run. It’s not that I’m obsessed with running. I didn’t run track in high school and I don’t own a pair of Nike shoes. As a Birthright Armenia volunteer in Gyumri, I started to run in the morning out of necessity. My host mom made it her goal to fatten me up. Recently, some of my running buddies commented on my habit and made a connection not just with running, but life in general and even specifically life in Armenia.

I started off my Armenian experience a little rough. My host mom spoke no English and my Armenian was very rusty. Communication was difficult and I felt like I was running into walls. Armenian class was intimidating and I really got hit over the head with how much I didn’t know. It was a good thing. I eventually realized that this is a marathon, not a sprint. I paced myself and ran with a smile as I sat though every available hour of Armenian class. Learning my mother tongue in my homeland was amazing and I can’t help but feel blessed by the experience.

I spent my volunteer hours at two different youth organizations. As an undergraduate student, I was surprised at the level of work and responsibility I was given. Being in charge of huge important projects was a new concept for me. I was glad to help out wherever I could and I ended up doing a lot of fun computer work designing a blog. My coworkers were so nice and I can’t help but smile as I remember our lunch parties of bread, cheese, and tomatoes.

Two months in Armenia seemed like 2 weeks. I learned so much about community, perseverance, and what it means to be Armenian. The city of Gyumri, with its old-school feel, had so much to offer with one adventure after another. Sometimes the Gyumri way of life seemed backwards to us diasporans, especially when it came to dating and fashion. Some local guys would be considered stalkers in the States and girls somehow manage to walk the beat-up streets in heels and a dress! Our Gyumri Birthright Armenia group this summer became very close and anytime we were away from our beloved city, we would talk about it and look forward to our return.

Even though my time in Armenia this year has come to an end, I’m convinced that the joy inside me can’t help but show in whatever I do. It doesn’t matter if I’m going through life at high speed or slow, running or walking. I will always have a smile ready, excited about what God has next for me and Armenia.

 

Bridging Houston & Gyumri Through Volunteerism

Adrik Grigorian
(Houston, TX, USA)

Deciding to be a volunteer in Armenia took no hesitation. Minutes after my sister recommended me to apply for Birthright Armenia I was on the website writing my application. My sister would constantly talk about her stay in Armenia and I knew that I would want to have this experience.

With a Major in Business and working with computers as a hobby, the Armenian Volunteer Corps (AVC) placed me to work in the Gyumri IT Center. I was expected to only teach computer courses in Web design, Search Engine Optimization, and PHP. As I was planning out my schedule with Amalya Yeghoyan, the Deputy Director, there was a larger problem at hand. After students would finish their two years at GITC a large percentage of students were not able find work. After hearing about this I took an initiative to change gears and help students find freelance work from outside countries. I never had experience finding work but I had worked as a project manager for a small business in Houston who constantly had their work outsourced. Working with this company I learned to look for certain things in a coder, primarily presentation. With the knowledge of knowing what to expect from a coder and what to look for in a coder I flipped things around. At first I did the dirty work for the graduates, I went out and found small projects and represented the coders. My work was greatly appreciated but this was not a solution. As cliché as it might sound, it was time to teach the fisherman to fish. I taught a class on how to find work, where to look, how to present themselves, and so forth.  This was the most rewarding since the graduates where eager to find work and where successful. It was defiantly a moral boost in the graduates and future graduates, they were excited to learn more because there knew there was light at the end of the tunnel. As an effect it made me proud of them and as a result it thought me that education is the key to many doors and possibilities.

Gyumri is a very distinct city, it faced a very large economic collapse and has still not developed as much as Yerevan. It is a surprise to see citizens with so little to have so much to look forward to. Through all the struggles they have gone through they still live as happy and caring people. When I arrived it was strange to have people invite me to their homes for coffee because I was from the Diaspora. Our group in Gyumri is easily be distinguished because of the social factors such as the way we dress. None the less we were accepted as residence, all of the number 20 Marshutka [minibus] drivers greet me when I get on, a couple have them invited me to go out for a drink but I had to deny the request. In all, Gyumri is best because of the southern hospitality style they have, it is laid back but still has so much to look forward to. The volunteers who are with me here are in all, great people and without them it would have been a little harder but thankfully we all became great friends.

My homestay family enhanced my overall experience greatly. It only took a day after I went from a guest to a member of the family. I refer to the members of the family as Mom, Dad, Brother and Sister. It basically all comes down to that, we are family. My host Mom always says I was her lost son, we look out for each other and help each other in whatever way we can. My host Mom is a baker who lost her store after the earthquake in 1988 but still bakes from her house to supply pastries to a local grocery store. She always wants new ideas so one day I come home with a couple dozen pictures of cakes and pastries I pulled from the internet. When I started showing her the pictures, her eyes light up as if it where Christmas morning.

My experience here had a great affect in my life moving forward starting from a business perspective to a long lost family. To me Armenia is untouched land, there is so much to expand and so many things to improve on. The forums Birthright setup enlightened me to form a business of some sort in the future, anything from production to services. There are great people currently in Armenia but is up to us volunteers from the Diaspora to help and show leadership. The family I stayed with will always be in my memory and my heart. They are people who I have gained more than just trust and respect for, they are family. It is hard for me to in vision not having any of the two in the future.

 

My Immersion Story in Armenia

Azatuhi Ayrikyan
(Boston, MA, USA)

I feel as though I could write 100 travelogues about my experience in Armenia and even that would not be enough to describe every facet of it. If you had told me last May that this summer would be the best of my life, I would have had a hard time believing you. My purpose in coming to Armenia was very practical: to improve my Armenian, spend time with my family, and get some work experience abroad. Instead, I made some of the best friends of my life, felt at home in a way I’ve never felt before, and made some very life-altering decisions about the course of my career and personal life.

I was born in Moscow in 1984, and both my parents were dissidents. My Armenian father had devoted most of his life to the Armenian independence movement, while my Jewish mother had spent most of hers fighting for the freedom to emigrate to Israel. My father was exiled from the Soviet Union when I was 4 years old and his citizenship was taken from him. My family joined him, first in Paris and then in Los Angeles, but eventually, his citizenship was returned and he came back to Armenia. My mother, on the other hand, made the decision to stay in the US, and I remained there for the next twenty years. If asked where I was from, I would always respond “Armenia”, although I had already forgotten the Armenian of my childhood, and to make life easier for my American schoolmates, I used my middle name Ruth instead of Azatuhi.

It was only when I came to college that I started feeling connected to the Armenian community again. At Columbia, I was able to take Armenian history and language classes and learn more about my family. I hadn’t even known about the Armenian genocide until I came to college, and I began to ask questions of my father and his family. I discovered that we were the descendants of refugees from Constantinople and Van, and my affinity to the Orient started making more and more sense.

Although I came to Armenia two years ago with my family, this experience was completely different. My life in Armenia with Depi Hayk was independent and not at all touristy. A very simple example: as a tourist, I never once took public transportation. As a volunteer, I quickly learned the fastest routes by Marshrutka, subway, or “votkov”. I learned to buy groceries in broken Armenian and get a language lesson out of it at the same time. I learned to give taxi drivers directions, starting with the basic “ach” and “tsakgh”, (left and right), eventually progressing to the point where I learned the word for “sign”, very useful for saying “turn left after this sign”.

My first two weeks in Armenia were in Yerevan, where I truly saw a city in transition. I stayed with my father again, but this time my time was my own. Every morning, I would walk 15 minutes to the subway or marshrutka, going to the Academy of Sciences on Baghramian, where I worked at the center for Research on Armenian Archaeology. I had become interested in the preservation of Armenian architectural monuments during my first trip to Armenia, when I saw Saghmasavank, a church from the 11th century, covered in Soviet-era graffiti. Under Dr. Samvel Karapetyan, I participated in keeping track of Armenian monuments described in English travelogues of the 18th and 19th centuries. My research was then used to compare to the explorations Dr. Karapetyan’s group had done in those regions, to assess the amount of destruction done by the Turkish authorities since the 1900s. I quickly caught on to a few of the differences between Armenian and American work culture: arrival times greatly varied, group gatherings for haikakan sourch (armenian coffee) every 2 hours, and a comraderie I’d never seen in an American office of any sort before.

I also was introduced to the vibrant repat community in Yerevan, in which I found  an amazing support system and source for wonderful friendships. The most pleasant memories of Yerevan are of evenings slipping away into night at outdoor cafes, in front of the fountains at Hraparak, watching modern livese being lived in one of the oldest cities in the world.

At the beginning of June, I went to Gyumri. Mariana Mardirosian of Buenos Aires and I were the first volunteers to arrive. Initially I worked with an American organization called Earthwatch, primarily with 3 young American college students. Walking down the street, we were constantly greeted with a chorus of young voices shouting “Hello, What is your name?”. A particularly memorable evening: Marianna and I were seeking out Ankagh Hraparak (Independence Square), and my new friends Hagop and Haig, 10 and 12 years old, offered to show us the way through the hidden side streets of the oldest part of Gyumri. That was my introduction to the warmth of Gyumretsis. Every day that followed only built on that initial impression.

My best friend in Gyumri, among the locals, was a grandmother named Sranoush tatik. She managed an outdoor cafe in Ankagh Hraparak, selling pirozhki, ice cream, and upon request, telling fortunes from Armenian coffee cups. My second day at her cafe, I was greeted with a warm “Barev, Azatuhi jan! Ari, Hametses, sourch khemes!”.The capacity of Gyumretsis to remember names always astounded me.  Sranoush Tatik had survived many life trials, her father dying in World War II, a childless marriage ending in divorce (very uncommon in Gyumri) and finally the earthquake, during which her home was destroyed and she was the sole survivor among her colleagues at the largest hotel in Gyumri. Despite all of this, or perhaps because of it, she, like so many other Gyumretsis, was full of kindness and warmth. Nearly every person I met had lost someone during the earthquake, had struggled to put the pieces of their lives back together, and were still dealing with the challenges of living in a fledgling democracy. Some expressed bitterness and a desire to leave Armenia, while many others, including my host family, were incredibly proud of the lives they had rebuilt in their homeland.

In Gyumri, I always felt instantly accepted and embraced. Its people would often express their joy to see diasporans coming to parts of Armenia that are not as easy to live in, sometimes asking us about our backgrounds over an entire marshrutka ride back home from the city center. The encouragement of Gyumretsis was also a huge help in learning Armenian, where their warmth and patience truly was a blessing as I struggled to string sentences together, only to hear praise and pride at hearing a diasporan returning to her roots.

A frequent point of conversation between my host mother and I was my return to Armenia. She and I would agree, “Yete gords unes, amena lav tegh Hayastan e”, in short, that if you have a job, the best place in the world is Armenia. Unlike many of their friends, my host family had no desire to emigrate. Their family was an inspiration and model to me of how to build Armenia simply by leading a normal life, and raising children in the country of our ancestry. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the lessons I learned from them.