Armenia - a land of believers

by Gergana Georgieva (Bulgaria)

Making a local connection Armenia

I feel bizarre as I try to shimmy my way out of a hollow tree stump at the heart of the Haghartsin Monastery Complex in North East Armenia. It’s pitch black outside and the monastery itself had been closed for hours but my cousins and their friends are on a mission to show me as many holy places as possible during my first visit to their home country. As instructed, I obediently make a wish as I try to push myself out of the stump without tearing my dress down. I am told that the tree had been planted there over 800 years ago, shaken by earthquakes and struck by lightnings, so my wish is going straight to the Gods. I now wonder if my great great grandmother had squeezed through the same hole. Maybe there is a thread from her dress that got entangled in that splintered tree. “Come! We have to find out who are you going to marry!” With child-like enthusiasm my cousins’ friend picks up a stick from the ground and gives it to me. I am now told to stand underneath the monastery’s front gate, back turned towards it, and use the stick to point at the inscription above me. I do as I’m told and then look up. I know little Armenian but at least with the alphabet I’m comfortable with. I’ve pointed at the letter ‘S’ – my life partner’s name would start with an ‘S’. Here I was thinking that I’m coming to Armenia to discover my roots when in fact my future had been written on its walls for centuries. With less than 3 million residents, this tiny country has been nestled in the heart of Eurasia and survived for more than 3,000 years due to its nation’s fearless patriotism. When the tension on the Azerbaijani border escalated in 2016, thousands of volunteers were enlisted within days of the public announcement. Protecting their country from outside and inside threats, in 2018 hundreds of thousands of people took to the streets to ask for the Prime Minister’s resignation during the 'Velvet Revolution'. While these are just recent examples of the spirit of the Armenians, I had gotten to know their culture through century-old family stories. Like many Armenian refugees my family had stories dating back to the genocide of 1915 that were passed on from generation to generation so I knew that history had changed Armenia a lot. “I wish we could take you to the Armenian city of churches,” my cheery new friend says. I understand later that this city, Ani, happens to be on the other side of the closed border with Turkey. It’s ironic how many of the things characterizing Armenia are now beyond its administrative borders – Ani, Mount Ararat, more than half of the Armenian population… In addition to that, Armenia also experiences mass internal migration, often leading straight to the capital of Yerevan. The ever-expanding city embodies the nation’s pride in its history, but also its aspirations for progress and modernisation. My friends want me to see their capital in all its glory so we listen to the Singing Fountains at the Republic Square, walk along the shiny Northern Avenue and climb the Yerevan Cascade. I manage to lay a carnation at the eternal fire at the Genocide Memorial Complex, kneel at the feet of Mother Armenia, and have a closer look at the cross-stones (khachkars) next to the National History Museum - a symbol of Christianity throughout the centuries. Trying to understand my cousins’ everyday life here, I am rather surprised to hear that a weekend getaway for them involves visiting a monastery complex. The first state to adopt Christianity as its official religion, Armenia is still very much a land of believers and the enthusiasm of my new friends made me want to see everything. So I never stopped looking out of the car’s window – trying to absorb everything: the pink tuff of buildings (characteristic of Armenian architecture), the beautiful nature, the occasional glossy building along the highway (contrasting to the windowless abandoned buildings in the distance). Who knows, maybe, while holding on to a khachkar soaked with my ancestors’ prayers, I could find my own faith.