My name is Ákos Vázsonyi. I am from Hungary, and I have spent six weeks in Armenia. I ended up there due to a series of coincidences, but eventually by applying for a program called “Global Volunteer” organized by AIESEC. I worked at a school as a Teaching Assistant in Yerevan. I made the Pink city my second home, and traveled around this ancient, awe-inspiring country called Armenia.
During those six weeks, I encountered an entirely different world. In this article I want to warn future travelers about the depth and mesmerizing nature of this country. I would like to highlight the fact that going to Armenia is a way deeper experience than one could imagine, thus it is very hard to digest it and even more so to convey all its depths and its unique atmosphere. Armenia is a small, hidden corner of the world with a very ancient history, deep-rooted culture, gorgeous landscapes, and last but not least, welcoming and hospitable people.
I feel very lucky to have gotten the opportunity to gain insight into the life of Armenia, not only as a simple tourist (though many times I acted like one), but as I was striving for experiencing the Armenian way of life, too. Many people helped me to discover the country, such as my Armenian friend, Vrezh, whom I met in Hungary in an EVS program, and a good friend’s uncle who is of Armenian origin and settled down in his mother land a few years ago. Furthermore, I lived in an apartment with an Armenian young couple who gave me a lot of advice regarding what and where to see, taste, drink, buy, etc. So I ate the same food, I shopped at the same stores and markets, I took the same rides as they do, in other words I lived MORE OR LESS the same way as average Armenian people do.
Buying basturma at Gumi Shuka (market)
Amazing selection of dried fruits
I noted “more or less” to acknowledge the numerous difficulties Armenian people have to go through: e.g. taking the compulsory 2 year-long military service and defend their country in case of war (since 1988 there is an ongoing conflict with Azerbaijan over the Nagorno-Karabakh region), working for very little pay (average salaries do not exceed $400), not to mention inconveniences due to high corruption, a lot of policemen, annoyingly ineffective bureaucracy, high poverty, lack of central heating and good infrastructure in general… These are all the remnants of the Soviet legacy, the consequences of the 1988 earthquake, and the Nagorno-Karabakh War. Anyway, I, as a “tourist” could exempt myself from the burden of these heavy historical misfortunes and could concentrate on enjoying what can be enjoyed in this country: tasty food, stunning nature, friendly people, and an incredible cultural heritage. And last but not least, the world-class brandies, wine and beautiful women, of course.
...Yes, it is: Street view in a residential area of Yerevan.
Slav squatting by the Soviet legacy in Areni. Lada is still one of the most widespread car brand.
Soldiers on the streets of Yerevan: off duty
In the school where I worked I was treated with respect and openness, and I was given much freedom to choose the way I could contribute to the learning process. I experienced what a different approach working with preschool and lower elementary age children requires: I observed their English classes, prepared, and then delivered activities for them. I did these in English sessions as well as in more informal free-time settings which opened space for more interaction. I mostly used drama games, memory games and some ball games, too. Later I presented my country to high school students and organized discussions on the similarities and differences of our countries and cultures. Besides drawing their attention to the beauties of Hungary, my aim was to arouse their curiosity about another culture, which helps them to reflect on their own culture, too. My job enabled me to gain practice in teaching children of various age groups and in designing teaching materials. Due to my presentations, I gained confidence in public speaking and improved my strategies for planning interactive discussions. Moreover, I have never had such an attentive and curious audience. The best part was when in exchange for my presentation and some home-made palacsinta they introduced me the most delightful delicacies of the Armenian cuisine (they brought a lot of foooood). And the smiles and love I got in the kindergarten from the cutest children ever still make me feel good about life.
Global Bridge Baby Park crew. Thank you all. :)
In my free time I had opportunity to discover the country and the culture. Yerevan is a buzzing city with many unique sites, vibrant culture and nightlife. I needed some time to find my way in the city and to get used to the local transportation system which totally lacks schedules and differs from that of any European city. I found that the traveling culture of Yerevan is an utmost allegory of the Armenian way of life: people travel back and forth in the city in very old, rickety vehicles (with a carpet and sacred images inside). Mini buses, the so-called marshrutkas, are usually packed with people so much that an external viewer can only see heads, limbs and bags inside. When the bus is full the engine roars up, and just like the Armenian economy, it has to exert itself in order to climb up the next hill. During transmission gears give loud clanking sounds as they grind to each other just like the harsh velar and glottal consonants which can be found in abundance in the Armenian language that are so hard to pronounce for untrained speakers. Breaks squeak loudly as the van-sized bus turns wildly in the curvy streets. Passengers drift from one side to the other just like Armenia did from one Empire to the other in the violent turns of its history. What is more, people have to put up with their vulnerability to the altering momentum of the bus, as it is hardly possible to hold on to anything except for the seats and one another. Yet, they bear the inconveniences of traveling with a peaceful mind, without complaining and grumpiness. In addition, they greet each other with nice words, hold each other’s bags, give their seats to the women and elderly, and help to pass on the fare to the driver. They always pay as they know how difficult it is for the driver to get by on such a small salary. As passengers get off the marshrutka they slam the heavy sliding door but always make sure no one is coming after them. Although at the beginning I didn’t like taking the overcrowded minibuses, I found that one can get excellent value for the money. Not only will it take you from A to B but it can give an “intimate” insight into the life of local people. These priceless moments will remain hidden if one takes a private taxi (which is not very expensive either). Due to these moments, I felt I got closer to the soul of the Armenian people. Moreover, I think the time I spent in overcrowded buses decreased my feeling of isolation as my fellow passengers involved me in the process of traveling e.g. by their requests for help and having small conversations. As it is said by the locals: whenever you feel lonely, take a marshrutka and you can hug anyone in the city for only 100 drams (€ 0,17) . Good price for value, isn’t it?
The Marshrutka Experience: the only reason I'm glad I came in winter.
After I got more familiar with my place I had very good time exploring the Pink City and beyond. As I lacked a proper camera, I picked up the habit of taking mind pictures (huge thanks to April for the idea) which means (for me at least) so much more than the countless megapixels captured by fancy Iphones and heavy cameras. Though, some of these mind pictures are documented with real photos as well just to complement my words visually. In the following paragraphs I will provide an insight into the gallery compiled from the verbal description of my favourite mind pictures. I have to admit here, that probably in this form they are not as impressive as in my mind, but I found this the best way to compress the tons of small events that happened to me during my trip in Armenia, of course without being exhaustive. I do hope that reading these mind-pictures will at least inspire you to leave behind the walls of your comfort zone and motivate you to start traveling to places you have never heard of before.
I took my first mind picture when I suddenly woke up in the bus between Kutaisi and Tbilisi and I saw the snow covered Caucasus Mountains and understood why Hemingway labelled his short story Hills like white elephants. I will never forget my first meeting with Vrezh in Armenia under the green lights of the Yerevan Opera; the moment when I spotted the white peaks of Mount Ararat from the top of the Cascades and realized they were not clouds; waking up extremely early to see the sunrise from the same place, and upon arrival realizing that in Armenia even the sun is late in the morning. I captured the moment when I tasted the first Kilikia (brand of beer) by the green tablecloths of Melody café (and drank six more the same night); I will never forget the eyes of the girl in the marshrutka who reached for my bag to hold it in her lap; the face of the lady in a local bakery from whom I asked for bread for the first time in Armenian; sweating while dancing Kochari in a huge room full of people; jumping over a bonfire with a girl I just met that day at the Trndez celebration.
I will always remember tasting Hungarian Pálinka from home with my hosts, and feeling that we have known each other for ages (later we compared it with the Armenian "fruit vodka", too); cooking Armenian coffee in the morning paying attention to serve it with the foam to my hosts; sharing my bottle of water from the holy spring inside Geghard Monastery with my friends; talking about IT revolution and the future of Armenian startups in the glass covered hall of Vanadzor Technology Center; playing
a card game with Hungarian cards
shouting “kiskancsó” and laughing at the looser; eating salty baked potatoes from the top of a stove an being hosted in Anti-café Teynik, sleeping inside an electric blanket; telling jokes to a beautiful girl while watching peopl e dancing as birds in a contemporary dance performance; Climbing up the narrow steps of Noravank monastery; hitchhiking from Areni, and trying to convince a funny driver that I’m not Armenian, and talking about history with Philippine tourist women; passing through a village where there was a stork nest on every utility pole with the storks inside; roasting horovatz in a friend’s house in Garni with a beautiful scenery and tasting the pure mountain water from a plastic hose; taking pictures and having a cheerful conversation with my host under the impressive stone symphonies in Garni gorge; These pictures are carved as deep into my mind as the gorge is carved into the stone by the stream in Garni.
I was busy taking mind pictures during my last trip in Armenia on the way to Tatev sticking my face onto the windows staring restlessly at the white mountaintops which glittered in the mild spring sunshine while all the Armenians were sleeping in the bus; Listening to Vojvodina Tamburashi and Hungarian Gipsy music while passing through poor, far-flunk villages, and being proud of finding the perfect background music for the present moment; feeling a boost of adrenaline as the wind shook the cabin of the world’s longest aerial tramway while it was gaining more speed sliding above the stunning Vorotan gorge; standing at the top of the hill above the village of Tatev counting the snail shells we found in the forest; lighting a small fire of pine cones in a metal plate by a hachkar we found in the forest and having a royal dinner at Greta’s B&B; Stopping by the Devil’s Bridge we saw from above a day before; getting back to Yerevan I remember teaching csárdás to an Armenian dance group and watching them enjoying the rythm; struggling not to shed a teardrop while reading the name of Kodály an and Bartók in Komitas Institute’s museum; saying goodbye to a bunch of good friends under the flashy colours of the huge mount Aragatz painting on the wall of my favourite restaurant; and hugging the nicest girl on the platform before getting in the minibus at the central bus station (which happens to be located in Budapest street).
These small glimpses of memories will remain with me to the end of my life, and I am very grateful to all the people with whom I shared these moments. During my short stay I learned a lot about Armenia and Armenia taught me a lot about myself as well. At first glance Armenia seemed to me like a nationalist country, but as I got acquainted with the situation in more depth I had to reassess my opinion. Although strong patriotism permeates everyday life and its signs can be manifested in unexpected places (e.g. child's drawings in the kindergarten). I am amazed at the willpower of this small Christian nation fighting for survival with pride and dignity among its hostile neighbours which justifies the omnipresent use of strong national messages and symbols. The toughness of Armenian men reflects in their war dances, and their stubborn adherence to their culture and traditions. By that I think they set a good example for European nations, as well. For Hungary in particular, Armenia’s long-standing history of intense networking with its massive diaspora (on both governmental and non-governmental levels) may provide strategies well worth following.
Signs of the ongoing war in the school.
Dance festival in Yerevan: people perform Papuri, Jarkushta, and Alashkerti Qochari
Moreover, I have observed several parallels between Hungary's and Armenia's history and situation which led me to the conclusion that our nations had to deal with similar problems during our history: e.g. glorious historical kingdoms in the Middle Ages; geopolitically both countries were situated in the buffer zone of great powers. As a consequence, both were subject to Ottoman and later Russian expansion; the topos of Hungary's role as the Shield of Christianity in 15-17th century cf. the central role of Christianity in the Armenian identity; Christian rites with older (pagan) roots; both has a 100 year-old national trauma (cf. Trianon and the Genocide); both lost large territories, both has newly gained independence, strong folk dance movement (thanks to good ethnographers); and big lakes (cf. Balaton and Sevan); we like apricot and make good brandy of it (pálinka); and we even have some common things in the sense of humour: both nations were/are able to make fun of their misery. Our mentality, however is somewhat different. I think the most respectable value of the Armenian people is their devotedness to building a better future for their country, their will to survive and develop. In addition, their open and helpful attitude towards newcomers creates a very warm atmosphere one will certainly miss after leaving the country. It is no wonder tourism has rocketed in the past decade and has become a key sector of the economy.
At the Armenian Genocide Memorial Monument (Yerevan): we paid homage to the victims.
Now I am home, sitting in my sofa, drinking Armenian tea while immersed in my memories. I feel overwhelmed and a great void inside me at the same time. I feel that a new life has just started, and that Mother Armenia has a lot more to offer to me. I look forward to going back again more than anything.
Mind picture gallery (visually documented part):
Meeting Vrezh in front of (or behind?) the Opera.
View of the Ararat: It's not a cloud.
The beer is good, cigarettes are cheap...
The water is crystal clear: the holy spring inside Geghard Monastery
With a bottle of water from the holy spring at Geghard Monastery.
Drinking fountains called Pulpulak can be found everywhere in Yerevan
Watching Trndez bonfire with April
Before heating up the game in Vanadzor: "kiskancsó!!!"
Baked potatoes from the top of the stove.
Noravank: the monastery with two floors.
The steps leading to God are really narrow.
Roasting Horovatz
Cheerful walk with Arshak
Mesmerized by the Stone symphony near Garni
The Holy Mountain
The spring has arrived, apricot trees started blossoming.
Drive to Halidzor. A gate which would fit into a LOTR movie.
"Hills like white elephants" on the way to Halidzor (from the bus).
View of Halizor, looking forward to ride the Wings of Tatev.
Wings of Tatev: Let the ride begin!
View from the cable car: The Devil's Bridge
Next morning we took that road on land.
One does not simply forget Tatev Monastery....
...and the view from the hill above the village...
...the silence of the pine forest...
... and the hospitality of the locals.
After a successful dance exchange: I tried Armenian, they tried Hungarian dances.
Komitas institute: I was touched by the recognition. Everything is interconnected: Kodály and Bartók are mentioned in the last sentence of the second paragraph)
farewell night with a bunch of good friends. Miss you guys. <3
One last group photo: we do love Yerevan
My "luggage" by a pulpulak near the central bus station.
My last glance at the mountain: the Ararat showed her best on the day I left.
Nincsenek megjegyzések:
Megjegyzés küldése