The Armenians

After seven months in Armenia, I decided to cut short my year to spend time in France. I am going to be living with a few families, working on their small farms and sharpening up my language skills.

Four days ago I took a 41 hour bus ride from Yerevan to Istanbul. On the bus with me was one French girl. The rest were Armenians mostly involved in the fabric and clothing business. They buy cheap clothes in Istanbul once a month making, in four days, an 82 hour round trip travel excursion. I can't quiet explain how surreal it is to enter Turkey (of course via Georgia due to the closed border) with a bus full of Armenians....and not diaspora Armenians like myself. Mostly tough looking women in their 50s from Yerevan. The road through Turkey was mostly along the Black Sea. We stopped nearly five times. Sitting drinking tea and coffee with these older women near lovely mosques along the water will be forever imprinted in my mind. In my limited Armenian we exchanged many conversations. Repeatedly it was said that no animosity existed towards the Turks. They viewed them as business partners. Most of their grandparents were Genocide survivors. Many of their families once lived in Eastern Turkey.

I feel like I am echoing the annoying, overly simplified, articles from the Economist or WSJ imploring that the borders be opened due to economic reasons, but I leave Armenia feeling just this.

I stayed in Istanbul for two nights. Here is one of the Armenian churches not too far from Galata Tower.



I am now in Athens before heading to France. Wandering the streets today I ran smack into an Armenian church.



I haven't been away long enough to reflect on my experiences in Armenia and this ramble that I am doing right now isn't exactly capturing my feelings. But overall, I am left with a profound sense of having lived amongst a proud people with deep roots. The Armenians, with their sad eyes and expressive eyebrows, are survivors.

For those of you that read my blog bless your souls for dealing with my stream of consciousness.

My morning

Sometimes I feel like I am cheating on my coffee mug with tea.

Armenian in London

Last Thursday, Armenian President Serge Sargsyan payed a visit to the United Kingdom. Despite working in politics in my past, I do not work in politics in Armenia. My office rarely discusses Armenian politics. But when we sat down for lunch last Friday I was surprised by the conversation. Everyone was speaking rather proudly of Sargsyan's trip to London, specifically about a speech he made at the Chatham House.

Below is the substance of the speech related to Karabakh that my office and, it seems, the country felt proud of...

"The problem can only be resolved in the context of the international law principles of the self-determination of nations, territorial integrity, and the nonuse of force. All the stakeholders now realize this truth. Whenever one refers to the Mountainous Karabakh conflict, the notion of territorial integrity should not be emphatically underlined, especially that even if that notion is perceived to be the only one applying in the case of the Mountainous Karabakh conflict, it would not lead to its application in the form envisioned by Azerbaijan.

I would pose a rhetoric question to all who consider themselves advocates of territorial integrity. Where were they when the Soviet Union collapsed and the borders changed? Where were they when Yugoslavia was falling apart? Why do you think that Azerbaijan could secede from the USSR, but Mountainous Karabakh could not? Why do you think that large empires should disintegrate, but small ones should persevere? What is the basis? Instability? I cannot perceive it. I do not accept it. Because unfair decisions are the very cause of instability.

Azerbaijan has exhausted the resources of trust in terms of autonomous status for minorities within its boundaries. It was not and is not capable of providing guarantees of even internal security to such autonomies. There was once another Armenian autonomy in Azerbaijan: Nakhijevan. What happened to it? Not a single Armenian is left in Nakhijevan. Can such guarantees be taken for granted? You might say Azerbaijan was different then, and is different now. During the last 18 years of that ‘difference’ more Armenian and Christian monuments were destroyed than in the preceding 70 years. The international organizations tasked with protection of the cultural heritage were unable to do anything: Azerbaijan did not even permit them to visit and see the obliterated Armenian monuments.

In the meantime, a full-blown race of arms continues in the South Caucasus. It is extremely dangerous. It is dangerous not only for the South Caucasus peoples, but also for Europe and the powers that have a stake in the region, the corporations that have invested in the Caucasus, and everyone else. Azerbaijan has not faced any substantial confrontation for having exceeded all the possible caps on conventional arms. Even if not used in a war against Karabakh, the weapons Azerbaijan is stockpiling today will shoot somewhere. The only question is where and when. While spending large sums on purchases of oil, the advanced states, in my opinion, cannot remain indifferent to how their moneys are being spent. The fact is that these very proceeds can become a source of threats, something that has happened elsewhere in the past."

William Saroyan

Near Yerevan's Cascade stands the tall and lean statue of William Saroyan, an Armenian-American writer.



I knew little of Saroyan before coming to Armenia, but his name kept drawing my attention in the city's book markets. Saroyan grew up in Fresno, California and tasted fame with his set of 1934 short stories, "The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze".

I've learned that he an adoring critic, Nona Balakian, who happened to be an editor of the New York Times Book Review (and also happened to be a fellow Armenian).

Saroyan also penned the 1939 play, "The Time of Your Life" and won a Pulitzer for it, but refused the award. Some not so pleasing details of his personality. He appears to have been a total egoist. He is on record dubbing himself a literary superior of Hemingway and said of one of his short story collections...''damned near the 'Ulysses' of the American short story''.

Despite these unsavory aspects of his boasting character, he does seem to have left his mark on the literary world. A quick NY Times search on his name yields over 2200 references to him and a similar exercise with the New Yorker bring 28 results. Saroyan wrote short stories for the later in the 1970s towards the end of his life.

You can read more about Saroyan through the joy (and some times detriment) of Google Books:

http://books.google.com/books?id=OjZLNgfDKHwC&printsec=frontcover&dq=The+Daring+Young+Man+on+the+Flying+Trapeze&ei=J0h0S-3nEKCSyQTjsv20BA&cd=1#v=onepage&q=&f=false

The story "Seventy Thousand Assyrians" is quiet good and reveals a bit about Saroyan's obsession with Hemingway and ethnicity.

Donkeys

One of the documentaries my office has been working on is about the culture of Lamu island that sits just east of Kenya. The island has thousands of donkeys and only a handful of cars.

Though the company spends lots of time on regional issues, they have started branching out to other areas of the world. As I watch what going on politically back in the States I can't help but want to scream, so I sometimes turn to this picture to see the humor in donkeys.

The photo was taken by our staff. You can learn more about Lamu and its donkeys by becoming a fan of our donkey page on Facebook:

Donkeymentary: Life Through the Eyes of a Donkey

Snow

Yesterday: ducks dancing around the pond felt like a warm, rainy spring day...



Today: winter snow hugging the last grapes that have refused to drop...



It's the second snow here. Everyone is thrilled despite being mildly worried that winter came two months late. Even in little old Armenia, global warming is suspect number one amongst the locals.

Underground Books

Carlos Ruiz Zafón's "A Shadow of the Wind" starts off with an enchanting description of a "cemetery of lost books" under a bustling Barcelona. Yerevan's streets don't exactly offer magical libraries, but they do have many small businesses in underground thoroughfares. One of these underground passageways is home to thousands of books in Armenian, Russian, English, French, Italian, and German.



During the day the crowded book market echoes with sellers trying to lure you to their side of isle. With me, they mostly hold up English books. Interestingly, at night, the book sellers cover their dictionaries and novels with blue tarp and go home.



It's a bit disconcerting to see the books out in the open ready to be picked up by the rare book robber, but it's also tremendously refreshing to be exposed to a society that trusts in his fellow man (at least his fellow Armenian man).

Some notes on eating

True to my munching American form, a few days ago I wrote enthusiastically about the all-you-can-eat crayfish deal at Texas Bar. This got me thinking about the problems with all-you-can-eat.



Like every workday, I sat down with my office mates for lunch. Today we were served apple dolmas (think stuffed apples with tomato sauce, onions, rice, herbs, and ground meat) as well as stuffed grape leaves and a sublime cabbage salad that eludes written description. I was hungry and wanted to dig in, but everyone else was taking their time, chatting away, seeming not to notice the plates of steamy deliciousness waiting for them on the table. While I could barely restrain myself from snatching up the apple creations.

The Armenians I've come to know here never grab at food. Just because it is there, doesn't mean they have to eat it this very moment. Some of my American friends here have also pointed out that this is not only the case with palate pleasing, homemade food. It seems to apply to chocolates and other wrapped sweets that can sit for days at the center of a table with no one reaching in for first, seconds, or thirds. While I can't damn all Americans, I can honestly say for myself, if I see a cupcake lying around, it's gone.

A culture that embraces eating kamas, kamas (slowly, slowly) may help to explain why most people remain thin.

Texas & Crayfish

This past weekend I went with some friends to Texas Bar. Don't be too surprised by the name. Yerevan has other bars called Western Bar, Irish Pub, That Place, all crawling with expats. Texas Bar amusingly employs face control. One must ring the bell, be told via speaker, "mi rope" (one minute), and then painfully wait outside. Eventually someone opens the wooden door, gives you a one over and lets you in. I am not sure who gets rejected. A friend strangely suggested to me men with ties. Regardless, it's quiet an experience to be in little old Armenia and drinking in a bar covered with Texas paraphernalia.

One surprising and yummy deal with your drinks included $3 all you can eat crayfish from Lake Sevan.



You have to like the little buggers...and I do. Many are disgusted by their similarities to the cockroach, (they must be distant relatives). Anyway, I urge everyone to get over it. They are tasty.

Human Rights Watch

The NGO, Human Rights Watch (HRW) recently released its "World Report 2010"

http://www.hrw.org/en/publications

reminding its readers that human rights violations remain universal. The report's chapter on Armenia states that country hasn't improved since last year's dismal findings. The country has a problem with political prisoners and "the Armenian Helsinki Association reported at least four cases of torture of opposition supporters in custody in 2009..." Additionally one independent tv station, A1+ has not been permitted to resume broadcasting. Some Armenian politicians in the ruling party grumbled that the report lacks objectivity.

The report is quiet objective, and it takes aim at the many problems facing big western nations too. Armenia actually comes off pretty well compared to the troubles in the US and the EU. Have a look at the US report if you have a chance http://www.hrw.org/en/node/87447. It begins with the nice little fact that US citizens have "broad range of civil liberties and have recourse to a strong system of independent federal and state courts," then the thrashing begins.

It estimates that "2,574 US prisoners serving sentences of life without the possibility of parole for crimes committed when they were under age 18. There are no persons known to be serving life without parole sentences for crimes committed as children anywhere else in the world."

Another disturbing fact, the US has both the largest incarcerated population (2.4 million) and the highest incarceration rate in the world.

The report goes on to detail sexual violence, Guantanamo & Indefinite Detention, but overall you are left with a feeling that the US prison system is in massive need for reform.

Horavats

Armenians like grilling. Especially pork. They call their bbq "horavats".

Step one: lay the pork down.



Step two: season the pork with onions and spices, mix.



Step three: acquire some minnie metal spears, pierce the meet, lay it on the grill.



It's rare to see an Armenian man cook. But they universally see themselves as grill masters. I am lacking a final picture of the cooked meat on my plate because I was busy munching away, but the last step is to take the meat and wrap it in lavash (thin Armenian bread). The lavash soaks up all the greasy unhealthy goodness of the pork.

St. Gregory's Well

So what's the best way to change a nation's religion???



Have a king throw you in a well for 12 years, then cure that king of madness. Or so the story of St. Gregory goes. King Trdat, the pagan ruler of Armenia banished Gregory to this well at Khor Virap where rumor has it he was fed by pious Christian women through a small hole in the pit.

When my family was here we made our way to this Monastery. The well is now housed in a small church next door to the larger of the buildings on the monastery grounds. Trusty Lonely Planet and more importantly other academics attribute Trdat's switch to unite his people (and keep his power) as a calculated one in the face of Roman aggression.

The picture below is of my sister climbing out of the pit that is now visited by tourists who want to see for themselves where Gregory was imprisoned before his actions helped Trdat to embrace this new religion. It's a bit of a claustrophobic experience on your way down and bit scary on your way up (Armenia has yet to embrace true safety regulations).



The trip to the Khor Virap is well worth it. On the border with Turkey in the distance, Mount Ararat seems to float in front of you.

Little Countries and Earthquakes

Only yesterday after my coworkers started talking about it, did I really start reading about the extent of the horrific earthquake that shook Haiti. Armenia's earthquake is still fresh in the head of anyone over 25 years old and the people here have deep feelings of empathy for nations that get kicked when they are already down out and out. After the mourning of the thousands of lives lost and trying to heal those who are injured, efforts to rebuild down the road can be daunting. Many here told me that Armenia country faced massive challenges in its efforts during the 1990s and even today, more then twenty years later, the remains of the earthquake are everywhere in Gyumri. This gives me great worries about the future for Haiti.

When someone asked me about Pat Robertson's crazy comments regarding Haiti's supposed pack with the devil. I just apologize. I pointed to the fact that there were many Americans who were doing their best to help. One Armenian-American in the media helped to alleviate the suffering through knowledge sharing. Nicholas Kristof's blog yesterday in the Times, "Today We Are All Haitians" reminds us that poverty can "hugely magnify natural disasters".

kristof.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/01/13/today-were-all-haitians

In general his pieces are especially good because tons of people post useful comments below (unlike so many other blogs that are usually blank space for people to rant madly). This particular post spurred readers to write in comments about good aid organizations to donate to from UNICEF to Doctors without Borders.

Hopefully this aid can get to people quickly.

Armenian beers

Armenians like their beer as much as the next guy. Due the manipulation of pricing (read lack of open borders) Armenian beer tends to be the most economical choice. Setting you back only $1. Russian beers are plentiful, while imports from Europe and America are outrageously priced in comparison. Kotayk, Gyumri, & Kilikia reign supreme in the Armenian beer market.



Stolen from the Gyumri website lets pause for some history, "Brewing is an ancient tradition in Armenia. According to Peotrovky's records since Urartu kingdom epoch ( IX-IIV BC ), on the territory of Armenia brewing was widespread. The “karas” jags found during the archeological excavations of Karmir Blur (Yerevan) proved this evidence, as they were filled with corn. There were even found cuneiform recipes of brewing and also different objects, characterizing the technology of brewing, special containers for preparation and keeping beer and sweet malt."

I have never wrote on beer before, so be patient with my lack of imaginative descriptives. For example, go to www.ratebeer.com where people who know beer (or think they do) can help you learn how to incorporate terms like "grassy/fruity hop aromas, near medium body with frothy carbonation, slightly spicy yeast."

Kotayk is a Pilsener with a 5.2% alcohol content. I was at the gym a few weeks ago and met the brew master, quiet an impressive guy. He naturally boasted about how it is the best of the Armenian beers and it is indeed a tasty lager.

Gyumri gold with its 4.6% alcohol content has a hoppy flavor. The company helps to employ lots of people from the region that was destroyed by the earthquake in the late 1980s, unfortunately that doesn't mean it tastes great.

Kilikia with its 4.8% alcohol content is a pale lager beer with a surprisingly bitter taste. Too bitter for me.

You can definitely pick up Kotayk in the US, not sure about the others.

The Garni Temple

Over the past weekend, I visited Garni, a temple overlooking mountain ranges. Upon stepping out of our taxi, my parents and I were approached by a man who seemed to be the grounds keeper, shop keeper, entrance fee keeper, and story keeper all rolled into one.



Garni looks bigger in the photos, but is still a lovely Parthenon looking temple. In fact, my handy, quick and lazy research on Armeniapedia.org (yes that exists), sites that Garni was "built in the first century A.D. by the Armenian King Tiridates with the money he received after visiting Emperor Nero in Rome."

The man who greeted us and became the tour guide we didn't ask for said something to this regard as well. Various earthquakes destroyed Garni, during Soviet times, it was restored more or less to its original structure.

Remnants of a Roman bath lay near by the temple, our guide walked us through explaining the three pools of water that once filled the bath contained cold, warm, and hot water. The ground was made of clay and was warmed by fires around the baths to keep everyones feet nice and toasty. Not a bad set up.

Dolmama

I don't usually spend my drams on food in Yerevan, but I have had my eye for quite a bit of time on the restaurant located on Pushkin Street, Dolmama. With the family in town I took full advantage to shop the idea of enjoying a quality meal there.

We made reservations. For months I had been passing by(and memorized) the menu they keep outside, so you can imagine my surprise when we arrived, they ushered us into a lovely quasi private room in the back of the restaurant and handed us a menu which was not the one I had been checking out (which happened to be the lunch menu. Instead a hefty dinner menu landed in my hand.

Everyone was a bit upset when I just ordered the lentil soup (in my defense it is my favorite soup!) and it was tasty. There was plenty of food to go around though. In my family's true style, everything became tapas of sorts. A garlic and walnut paste wrapped in thinly sliced roasted eggplants with gems of pomegranate on top delighted the senses. Dolma was also served. Instead of ground meat, grape leaves held slices of lamb. Some at the table thought it was too tough. It was still flavorful, but we had become accustomed to tender lamb in the stews we had been eating.



The fig and nut slices as seen above were served in a creative way and embodied what the Armenians love -- dried fruits and walnuts.

Dolmama is definitely on the pricey side, but if you have the drams or a generous family, go, go, go.