Going to the “Anoush” opera, composed by Armen Tigranyan, was an experience. The opera was about a young woman named Anoosh who falls in love with young man named Saro, but her mother learns this and does not let her see him. However once what was supposed to be a friendly and traditional wrestle with Anoush’s brother, Mossy (Anoush’s brother), and Saro, Saro throws Mossy to the ground. This is considered dishonorable for the man with his back on the ground. Mossy, claims that he will find Saro and kill him. And this is exactly what he does. Anoosh, learning this, you guessed it, kills herself. After learning that her love, Saro, is killed, she throws herself off of the cliff. Dramatic…
This left me in……………..deep sleep. Again, just like during the “Carmen” opera the week before. But hey! It’s not my fault the seats are so comfortable at Yerevan Theater of Opera and Ballet!
I thought that this was an interesting opera. The reason is because the story was similar to Romeo and Juliet, by Shakespeare. I believe that Shakespeare had a big influence on people around the world, making many opera writers create storylines similar to his plays. However this does annoy me. This is because I think people should try to create something completely their own.
I also thought that the actors in the opera were terrible. The actors were following the lines but not showing any emotion. This got the audience unimpressed. Or at least it got me unimpressed, but definitely not the one person in the audience screaming and clapping and probably waving a foam finger with that.
I did think that the costumes were great. The dresses were very traditional, and Armenian. It showed how Armenian the opera was. And no, not every Armenian family is like that. Or are they…:)
While I am not a professional at reviewing operas, I am a professional at criticizing. My Mom says that this makes me a critic. I thought the old women with jet black dyed wigs on their heads were very funny. I believe that I would do the same things trying to be young again, but it showed. I have sympathy for them.
Adios, au revoir, Arrivederci, Sayōnara, Adeus, Annyeong, tschuss, in short, goodbye.
The Masquerade ballet, written by Aram Khachaturian, is about a man, who was just playing a card game, and he won. Later, the man gets invited to a ball, in which his wife loses her bracelet. After he finds out that she lost her bracelet, he gets so mad that he poisons her, which leads to her death. Afterwards, his “Friend” tells him that another woman stole it from her. The husband slowly goes insane.
I thought that the plot was typical for a ballet. The music was impressive. However, the dancing was unsatisfactory. At one point, when the man was carrying the woman offstage, they bumped into a wall. The audience was trying not to laugh, and while they were holding it in, I was not…
Something that I did like was how the lights expressed the feelings of people. This made it easy to understand what they were feeling, and it made the audience understand why they were feeling this way.However the lights were also very dim and I could barely see the dancers.
While I am not a fashion expert, I didn’t know that the dresses were too long for ballet dancers! The reason this is was because one of the dancers almost tripped on her skirt!
At the end when the wife was dying, it took her about an hour to die. This got me impatient. This sounds wrong but I just wanted her to die already!!! I find it unbelievable that she was dancing while being poisoned. I think that she should say something and then die.
However, having the information about Khachaturian, I think that because he was born in 1903 he had experienced some tough things, to make his life even harder. He died in 1978, but at least he died happy, and everyone was happy enough to come to his funeral so that is a big improvement.
Overall, I do NOTTTT recommend this ballet over Carmen. Farewell for now!
Stray dogs can bite and bark but they mean more than biting and barking. Stray dogs have a tough life. They live on the street where cars often go by. It is easy for them to get thrown under one and die. For example, the other day, there was a stray dog limping. My grandma claimed that this dog was trapped under a car, and injured his/her leg. So many dogs have died from accidents like this one.
The other day I met a dog named Bjna. She was small and round and loved beef and chicken meat. This dog was hungry. So I fed her. She ate it like she hadn’t eaten in a year. We thought that she would run away, and so she did. She ran out the gate like, well, a wild dog.
I think that everyone should have a dog. It keeps the owner healthy, teaches them to be more organized, and gets their mood boosted up to the highest planet in the highest universe.
These are stray dogs in Armenia. I don’t see no waggin’ tails in this picture. I just see sad eyes, and rumbling tummies so please, adopt a dog today. That sounded like an advertisement but it wasn’t.
Visiting the Yerevan opera to see the opera “Carmen” for a 10 year old like me, was, let’s say, an experience. In the Opera “Carmen” by Bizet, the main character, Carmen, is like a magnet to boys. But she is especially a magnet to one boy, Don Jose, who is lured out of his job as a solider. Don Jose falls in love with Carmen, even though he was already engaged to Mikaela. Once the men hear the bell ring, they are gathered up to see the women working. Carmen is one among this group. She throws a rose at Jose, a soldier watching her group work. Jose is forced to hide the rose form his fiancé, Mikaela. As Jose continues to beg for a new life with Carmen, Carmen throws his ring at his feet and leaves. She makes it clear that her affair with Do Jose is over, and that she wants to be free. Jose will not take NO for an answer, so he chokes Carmen to death.
The play was about love and jealousy, and left most of the people in the audience, in awe, except for me, which left me in deep sleep. I think there are three reasons why I was not impressed. The dancing was very unimpressive to me. They were practically just jumping up and down. My second reason is that, while I love when people have great imagination, I think Bizet was a little crazy. The reason why this is, is because I did not understand why the little people were jumping around holding shoes, then jumping in a sewer pipe. My last reason why I did not like this, is because the stage was NOT very nice at all. I though the background was a moon, when it was really a bull horn.
So unless you want to hear a lady screaming in French, please do not go to see this opera. But again, that is only my opinion as a 10 year old.
These past few days I have been taking advantage of the fact that my mom brings students over to Armenia and shows them all the famous sights. So today, I am at Tatev. Tatev is a historic and famous monastery complex in one of the most beautiful parts of Armenia. Unfortunately we only got to see the monastery and not the surrounding area, which includes a cave village and a swinging bridge, mountain villages and churches, great hermitage of Tatev, Harsnadzor watchtower, and the Devil’s Bridge (Satani Kamurdj). I know, it’s a lot, but definitely worth it. But now about the monastery.
First off, the location is beautiful. If you ever plan on coming to Armenia, Tatev is a must-see. Now, as wonderful as my mom is, she is a professor. Yes, a very accomplished one, but she is still a professor. That’s not a bad thing, except that when she looks at writing, she expects information. So, before you read the rest of this post, I will provide you with all the information needed in a hopefully compelling way.
Tatev is one of the most well-known and impressive monastery complexes in Armenia, considering it was built in the 9th century A.D. In fact, it was once a scholastic, enlightenment, and spiritual center during medieval times. According to the Tatever/Wings of Tatev website, Tatev includes many features that seem straight out of a storybook, such as mighty fortress walls lining immense cliffs, an ancient olive oil mill with stone grinders, a swinging pillar (a pillar that is mounted on a hinge and able to sway), the tomb of Grigor Tatevatsi (hence the name Tatev), the last saint of the Armenian church, and ancient frescoes by European masters. Interested yet? Did I mention the highlight of my visit: the many, many, many underground tunnels. And if that isn’t enough, you need to take the world’s second-longest reversible aerial tramway in the world to reach the monastery. The monks that lived in the monastery equipped the monastery with a dining room, a library, a bell tower, and much more.
The Tatev Monastery
Since you are already learning about Tatev, you might as well learn about the surrounding area also, because it also contains an astonishing backstory and a compelling history. Near Tatev is a cave village and a swinging bridge (after my parents returned from their trip there last year, they were amazed at how scary the bridge was!). This bridge leads to a historic cave village called Khndzoresk, which is located on the steep slope of a gorge and contains man-made and natural caves. The cave dwelling were established over a thousand years ago, and were in use until the late 1950s, when Soviet officials declared the caves as “unfit” and “uncivilized”, forcing the villagers to leave. At the height of its success, the village is estimated to have had 15,000 villagers. Because the residences were carved on top of and surrounding each other, a complex system of ropes and ladders was used to get around. According to the TaTever website, the village even had two churches and three schools. And, adding to the adventure, in order to reach the caves a visitor would have to cross a swinging ladder. The 160 meter long suspended bridge was built using local funds and labor in 2012. The bridge is said to sway with every step, which makes it even more appealing to certain tourists.
There are also numerous mountain villages and churches scattered in the area, although they do not currently operate they are still a must see. First on the list, is Old Khot Village, which houses the Mrgadzori Khach (Cross of the fruit ravine) church. According to the TaTever website, the locals claim that the church was built by ‘a famous beauty having fled the harem of Shah Abbas of Persia.’
Next up is Yeritsatumb village. Yeritsatumb village is known for St. Minas church (1821) and its waterfall and basin. The water from the basin is said to cure children from illnesses and women from infertility. The church is covered in vegetation in the summer, and the roof and walls become enveloped with forget-me-nots.
Another astonishing landmark is Old Halidzor. The village was gifted to the Tatev monastery in the 10th century and belonged to the monastery for another nine centuries. The architectural design of the homes was key to the survival of the inhabitants. The roof of one stone home served as the courtyard and floor of another, creating a cascade like design on the slanted cliffside. This style was used often for Armenina alpine villages.
Last but not least is Old Shinuhayr Village. Shinuhayr means ‘father of settlements’, suggesting that it is one of the oldest settlements in Syunik, a town in the area. The exact age of the village, however, is unknown. According to the TaTever website, the 10th century is mentioned in some written documents. It is believed that a strong earthquake in the 13th century destroyed the village’s main church. The church was rebuilt and remains in Old Shinuhayr, in the Vorotan river. There is also a cemetery with many ancient gravestones, one of which is a three meter tall cross stone, dating from the year 1261.
Another interesting attraction is the Great Hermitage of Tatev (Tatevi Mets Anapat). Located on the bank of the Vorotan river are the ruins of the shelter of the Kharants Hermits (Great Hermitage of Syunik). Founded by monks between 1608 – 1613, the earthquake of 1658 forced the monks to relocate. The hermits built a new shelter several kilometers from Kharants (monastery complex the great hermitage of tatev). The hermitage of Tatev can be seen from the cabin windows on the wings of Tatev tramway.
The Harsnadzor watchtower, which can also be seen from the tramway, used to be part of a system of warning in case of an attack. The watchtower is located above the gorge. It was part of the chain of warnings developed in the Zangezur Mountains. When an enemy was spotted, the guards in Kordzor would ring the bell at the watchtower, then the guards at harsnadzor would ring the bell at their watchtower, then the bell would be rung at the tatev monastery. The bell at the monastery could be heard across a distance of 50 km. Enemies broke the system when they burned the bell in Khot, the village where one of the watchtowers was located. Now, at the Harsnadzor watchpoint the chains that once supported the bell can be seen.
The last, but one of the most interesting landmarks in the area, is the Devil’s bridge. The Devil’s bridge is located beneath the monastery in the 500 meter gorge of the Vorotan river. The bridge was created naturally, crafted by the wind and water, making the petrified lava look alive. The warm springs below the natural bridge is the perfect temperature for a swim, and the stalactites surrounding the springs make for a great view. There are even hidden grottos below the spring that make the scene seem like something out of a dream.
The room bloomed with music as Asmik Grigorian performed at the Yerevan Opera. Every moment seemed delicate enough to break as the melody drifted through the air. Asmik Grigorian is a famous singer who has performed in many different countries since 2011. She graduated from the National M. K. Čiurlionis School of Art in 1999 in Vilnius, and later graduated from the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre with a masters degree in 2006 at the age of 25. She has been awarded the Golden Stage Cross award, the highest Lithuanian theatre award, twice.
This international, established, almost magical singer was now standing on the stage of the Yerevan Opera, completely absorbed in her spellbinding music. Asmik Grigorian unleashed her remarkable voice standing on the very stage in the very opera that her father, Gegham Grigoryan, another famous opera singer, had been the artistic director of for seven years. Unfortunately, Gegham Grigoryan passed at the young age of 65, unable to grace any more crowds with his astounding voice.
The Yerevan Opera, also known as the Armenian National Academic of Opera and Ballet named after Alexander Spendarian, was officially open on January 20, 1933 with the performance of Alexander Spendarians opera Almast. Designed by Alexander Tamanian, the Yerevan Opera overlooks Freedom Square, where kids and adults can enjoy bike rides, scooter rides, and much more (though this can be annoying if you’re dressed fancy and about to see an opera). The Yerevan Opera is made up of two concert halls, one larger than the other. Aram Khachaturian Hall consists of 1,400 seats, while Alexander Spendarian (yet again) consists of 1,200 seats.
One of the most famous operas performed at the opera is the Anoush opera, composed by Armen Tigranian. Anoush Opera is composed of five parts and is based off a poem by Hovhannes Tumanyan in 1892. Anoush Opera is considered to be the first opera based off of Armenian folk lore and culture. To learn more about the Anoush Opera, click the following link.
The sun rose behind Goshavank Monastery, illuminating the crosses nestled onto the monasteries’ peaks. Goshavank Monastery was built in the 12th century by Duke Ivane Zakarian and Mkhitar Gosh, hence the name of the church. Goshavank was constructed in place of another monastery, Ghetik, that was destroyed in the earthquake of 1188. Because of this, Goshavank was originally known as Nor Ghetik, which literally translates to New Ghetik, but was changed to Goshavank after the death of Mkhitar Gosh in 1213.
Another day began at the functioning church Goshavank as buses and cars filled the parking lot. Vendors lined the road winding up the small hill leading to Goshavank, calling for people to buy their products. A small shop ‘won’ the contest for most customers as tourists bought ice cream and water. Church hymns could be heard playing from the monastery as people crowded to listen.
In the past, the monks of Goshavank were also scientists, and Mkhitar Gosh himself was a scientist as well as a scholar, writer, and a priest. In 1184 Gosh wrote the դատաստանագիր, or The Code of Laws. Mkhitar Gosh was also the author of many well-known fables. One of the most frequently asked questions about Mkhitar Gosh is about how he gained such wisdom and knowledge, the answer to which can be found in one of his fables. That particular fable describes a method of how to learn and become better at something.
In the fable, an elephant takes its child to the philosopher Plato and asks him to teach the baby elephant how to become a philosopher. A year later Plato calls the father elephant and explains that the baby cannot become a philosopher. Hearing this, the father asks why. Plato responds by explaining that the child elephant is incapable of being patient and calm, and that this interrupts learning. This fable was in a way an autobiography of Mkhitar Gosh, as he considered himself to be calm and studious, traits that he felt led to his success.
As mentioned before, Goshavank is currently a functioning church, and open to everyone. After conducting service, Ter Tadeos, the current priest, also spoke about Mkhitar Gosh and the history of the church. Ter Tadeos also helped in the creation of karate and dance clubs in the nearby village of Gosh, named after, you guessed it, Mkhitar Gosh. He was, “one of the most progressive priests I have ever seen,” according to my mother. After the service, he speaks about the church and Mkhitar Gosh, though he speaks in Armenian. Overall, Goshavank was a breathtaking experience I would recommend to anyone, so definitely put it on your list if you are visiting Armenia.
Buses filed into the parking lot as the day began at Sevanavank monastery. As the sun climbed higher into the sky, more people arrived at the picturesque monastery. Originally built on an island in the 9th century by Princess Mariam, daughter of Ashot I, the monastery consists of two churches: Saint Arakelots and Saint Astvastastin. An inscription about the construction of the church was kept in 874. The monastery is now located on a peninsula due to the draining of lake Sevan during the era of Joseph Stalin, and has increased tourism because of it.
The monastery overlooks Sevan lake, the view incredible from the top of the hill. From the church can also be seen the small shopping area below, where vendors gather to sell goods and food. Climbing up the hill, a strong smell of ‘gata’, a classic Armenian pastry, hits one in the face. The gata from the shop is blooming with flavor, and is the perfect treat to savor while enjoying the view of Sevan. Another tourist attraction at Sevanavank are the unique green khachkars that were made from a special rock near the monastery.
Sprouting off from the side of the church is a maze, sprawled across the grass. Plants made their way into the maze and splashed color into the faded stone of the maze. According to RepatArmenia, the maze was a dormitory for the monks who lived at Sevanavank. It is said that in the 19th century Sevanavank was a place for monks that had sinned, as it was located on an island then. No women or children were allowed on the island, and the monks followed a strict diet without meat or wine. According to AtlasObscura, the monks also had to copy bibles by hand.
Sevanavank is also the setting for a battle between Armenian king Ashot Erkat (meaning Ashot the Iron), also known as Ashot II, and the Arabs. The Armenian troops were greatly outnumbered by the Arabs despite the help of many fishermen and monks. Desperate, Ashot Erkat sought the help of a fisherman. The fisherman told Erkat that the Armenians had the best shot at winning if they attacked in the morning, when the sun was still rising so it would blind the Arabs. Following the fisherman’s advice, the Armenians were able to overcome the Arabs. The Bodies, blood, and the uniforms of the soldiers turned the clear waters of Sevan black. In Armenian, “sev” means black, which is why the lake was given the name Sevan.
In Armenia pedestrians usually get around by foot, by bus, by trolley or by taxi. However, others prefer the subway. I will pause here and let you imagine what the subways in Armenia are like. Now, I have no idea what came to mind, but my first subway experience was quite different than what I expected. Unfortunately, however much either one of us might want to, I can’t ship you to Armenia and bring you to the subways. So I will do what I consider the next best thing, write about it from this cafe I am sitting in (while eating a remarkably good cake…). Enjoy!
I would start by saying it’s a nice day out, but
unfortunately to you everything seems to radiate heat. Well, not only to you.
Everyone is wiping their brows or resting in the shade. The moment you stepped
outside, you regretted it. Minding your own business you continue walking, when
you come across some stairs. Now this isn’t exactly the small narrow staircase
you would be nervous to enter in the middle of the night, this is a wide
staircase that people are casually climbing. Curious by nature, you decide to
take to venture down the stairs. Then you see it. A water fountain! You must
decide between the water and the stairs. There seems to be a long line for the
water so you reluctantly take the stairs. The stairs are made of stone and
there are railings on each side. Your fingers slide along the railing as you
climb down the stairs. Then all of a sudden you pull your hand back, gasping.
You hesitantly touch the railing again, however it is unbelievably hot. The sun
has been beating down on the metal railing all day, you realize. You finally make it down the stairs and immediately sigh
a wistful sigh.
A gust of cold air surrounds you, the weather of your dreams. You must be underground. There are escalators to your left, and a booth to your right. There is a small line in front of the booth so you head over there as well. Someone thanks the person in the booth and walks away with a small neon orange coin in their hand. The person in front of you pulls out a 100 dram coin (0.2 USD) and hands it to the lady in the booth. She then hands him a small neon coin and he walks away. You fish around in your bag for your wallet and pull it out. You hand the lady your money, and she takes it without meeting your eyes. In fact, her eyes are glued to her phone. She almost automatically hands you a small neon coin and turns her attention back to her phone. She must have been sitting there for some time, handing and collecting coins. It must get pretty boring. Someone ahead of you puts their coin in a machine and a light turns green as they walk through. Looking down at your coin you notice its worn out edges and imagine how dirty it must be. You slip it through a slot in the machine and walk through. You approach the escalators. You have to pause and look again, to make sure you are eyes aren’t betraying you. You suddenly fill up with nervous fear.
The escalator descends deep a long way down, the people at
the end remind you of the figurines you used to play with when you were
younger. Okay, I might be slightly exaggerating, but the escalator is still
pretty long and steep. You look down and realize it is moving pretty fast too.
What if you slip and fall? What if you don’t make it on in time and stumble?
Your head starts to fill with many what-ifs, each containing a different
scenario. However, not many of them end well. This is going to be exciting. You
watch the tiles appearing and sliding away. People are casually getting on, not
really caring about how steep the escalator is, or how fast it is moving. You
look down again at the tiles. You’ll take the next one, you think to yourself.
‘The next one’ keeps coming but you are still not on the escalator. Counting to
three, you keep a tile in sight, but it is quickly moving away from you. It’s
okay, you missed one. You’ll catch the next then. You leap onto the first tile
you see and are suddenly being rushed down a steel man-made hill. Grabbing the
elastic railing you look around. Anywhere but down is fine!
There are ads framed in the wall, for your own two-story
house. Wow, that would be a treat. The cities in Yerevan are all packed with
soviet buildings made of crumbling rock and scary elevators that you are pretty
sure don’t even work half the time. It is so tempting to look down. Biting your
lip, you look down. You haven’t even made it halfway down! At this pace you
thought you would have at least made it halfway! Suddenly you realize you have
been holding on to the railing so tight your knuckles have turned white.
Looking around to see if anyone noticed, you sheepishly loosen your grip, but
don’t let go. The air gets cooler as you descend down, but you don’t complain.
You have started to consider taking the subway solely for the cooler air.
Finally, the end is near. The end of the escalator, that is. You jump off a
little to early and end up stumbling onto the floor. You slow your pace, and
look around.
You are in a wide, long, room with subway tracks on either side of you. There are benches back to back in the middle of the room, and pillars separating you from the tracks. A red line is drawn a foot or two away from the tracks. The room is a little dim, but cool. And remarkably clean for a subway station. It seems rather empty as well, for such a big room. People are casually leaning on the pillars, and mothers with children are occupying the benches. Overall it is rather quiet, or so you thought. A low rumbling sound fills the room. At first you think you are imagining it, then it grows louder. The other people either haven’t noticed it yet or don’t care, however you think the latter is the case here. The sound keeps on growing, you start to think if there is an earthquake. The huge room fills with the sound, and you look around, starting to panic. Then you notice the tracks are no longer empty, they have been replaced with an orange – ish white blur, bringing with it yet another gust of cold air. The subway train slows down to a halt and the doors slide open to reveal worn out orange seats. People get out, heading towards the stairs. A message plays on the subway speakers. You don’t pay much attention to it until — What?!? You were about to get on, but the doors close. At least there was a heads up. You will pay more attention to the message in the future. Oh well, guess you’ll have to catch the next one.
In my previous blog post I wrote about education, particularly education for the disabled children. Now, I want to focus on girls’ education. United States, where I live, seems more advanced towards female education, but other places, like South Sudan don’t provide good quality education for girls. In my opinion, girls are people too, they deserve quality education.
For example, in South Sudan, there is a total of 307 girls and 326 boys that attend the Tangal Basic School. There are 200 girls in the first grade, but in third grade there are less girls, and in fifth grade, even less. Now, in eighth grade, there are only two girls left, Tabita and Arruima who are both seventeen. Normally, girls their age are already married, and are forced to drop out of school.
I am pleased that education is slowly finding its way across the world, but the fact that the higher the grade the fewer girls in some countries is disappointing, as well as the fact that girls have to start a family at such a young age. In Armenia, it is the boys who sometimes drop out the school early in order to go and work for their families.
I have always had some questions about why females and males are treated somewhat differently. My mother took my sister and I to meet with an expert in issues on gender in Armenia, Ms. Nvart Manasian. I asked Ms. Manasian a few questions. Through all the information she provided us with, I was able to come up with a conclusion. Ms. Manasyan explained that before humans had evolved, and you could call males and females physically equal, when we had to hunt for food, is when we started to separate through gender. When women had a baby on their shoulder they couldn’t fight as well as the males, or hunt as successfully either. Men got to eat what they hunted, and didn’t share for the sake of survival. In prehistoric times, I’m pretty sure everyone only thought for themselves, only made sure they would survive. Women, on the other hand, became mothers, and would sacrifice themselves for their child. Not being able to hunt, women lived off of berries, and grew less muscular and strong as the men, who got the good proteins from the meat. Now, both men and women have meat, but women’s history has made them smaller, and physically weaker than men.
Soon, as humans evolved, men started ruling and creating kingdoms. Women weren’t able to fight for the throne because they were too physically weak. Soon, men were the ones who went to war, and then became heros. Men were the ones who became scribes, and wrote down history. But they focused on their own gender, there were probably many women scientists who couldn’t get their voices heard. Take Nellie Bly, for example, a female journalist in the US in the 19th century. She had to work hard to get her articles published in the newspaper. Now, in places like South Sudan, families favor males over females, and send their boys to school instead of their girls. The girls grow up, get married, have children, at a young age and have to take school out of their schedule. The end result is they can’t get into good colleges, and they don’t get good jobs, and they are more likely to be poor.
I think that if more young girls were like Tabita and Arrumia, there would be more girls in school. If more girls were brave enough to stand up for their rights, like Nellie Bly did, the number of female heroes would be equivalent to the number of the male ones there are now. If women are more educated, the society becomes a better place, because women know how to properly take care of their families. It helps businesses become bigger since women in places like South Sudan can work too.
Armenia has great schools, but there are still many children who do not have access to quality education. The United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), is an organization for children’s rights, is working around the world including in in Armenia so all children have the knowledge they need to live successful lives. Most children in Yerevan have access to education, but out in the smaller villages, not many children have the same privilege as the children in the city. A particular problem in villages is that there is lack of preschools.
Preschools are important because they prepare young children for school. Most children in the outskirts of Armenia enter school without knowing the letters, or even how to hold a pencil. Because they don’t know the letters, instead of learning how to read and write they have to learn the alphabet instead.
Like I mentioned before, most children in Armenia are able to go to school. Disabled children do not fall into that majority. The disabled don’t get the same quality education as those without disabilities. UNICEF believes that every child has a right to a bright future, as well as the right for education, including children with disabilities, with which I agree. Separating the disabled from those not disabled, will only be robbing the disabled from their society. They won’t be able to interact with others and normally will get lower quality education. If those with disabilities attend the same school as those without, this teaches the children without disabilities to care for their classmates. They will learn to be understanding, caring, and patient. These important skills will come handy later in life for those with and without disabilities.
In my opinion, no matter the child, girl or boy, disabled or not, should all get good education. This is one of UNICEF’s main goals, not only in Armenia. In many countries around the world 61 million children at the age of school are not going to school. UNICEF’s goal in education is to lower that number. Many children, not only in Armenia, disabled or not, deserve education. If a child’s education isn’t stable, this will result in an unstable future. I hope that by reading this post, you will donate some of your time to raise awareness for disabled children’s rights in Armenia and around the world.
YARP hello from Elise! I am greatly thankful to UNICEF staff in Armenia, for inviting me to a very interesting meeting about the needs of so many children I did not know about. I hope this post greatly helps UNICEF by informing others of these issues on access to education for all.
Along with the wonderful tourist attractions and rich cultural traditions, there are also many problems in Armenia, like in every country. They are not visible on the streets of Yerevan, the capital, but, away from Yerevan, in the smaller towns and villages, poor families struggle to feed their children. In addition, there are disabled children all over Armenia who are unable to get to school. There are also children in smaller towns and villages where there are no preschools. Children in such villages often cannot get to school as well, because the roads are too dangerous, on unstable bridges and icy in the winter. One of the main problems I am going to be writing about in this blog post is education and schools in smaller towns and villages. With the help of UNICEF, an international organization that benefits children’s education around the world, solutions are flourishing.
In the small town of Atan, the kids do not have access to quality education. In fact, many of them long to live in Yerevan. Also, Atan lacks a preschool, like many other villages. This may not seem like a major problem, but without preschools, the children are poorly prepared for elementary school. In first grade, the children barely know the alphabet, or even how to count to ten. When children are inadequately prepared for the first grade, they will fall behind and may drop out. Because of this, the children will be missing out on high quality universities, and will remain poor throughout their lives. The Armenian government pays for preschools in Yerevan, along with other big towns, but small villages like Atan are left out. The reasons for this are the costs. The local government is unable to pay for the preschools in smaller villages, such as the cost of the building, water, electricity, teacher salaries, etc.
UNICEF has introduced an idea for solving this problem, known as the alternative preschool. Usually a given town in Armenia already has a building that is not being used, or is partly used. UNICEF uses these buildings to create preschools, which cuts down on the cost for the building, water, electricity, etc. because the building is already being used for other purposes. Also, instead of hiring teachers, UNICEF trains local women to be teachers to work at the preschool. The preschool is only three to five hours a day, instead of a full eight, which also cuts down on the cost. Studies show that it is more important to get children into preschools when they are younger rather than later, even for shorter days. Shorter school days are cheaper and therefore possible to do for more years and they give access to more students. The good news is that after trying the alternative preschool method, the towns have adapted to it. Once an alternative preschool is created, the community is able to care for it without the help of UNICEF.
Another issue in education is that of children with disabilities. According to UNICEF, “there are at least 93 million children with disabilities in the world, but numbers could be much higher.” Some of these children are going to schools only for disabled children, and are missing the chance to interact with non-disabled children. UNICEF believes that disabled children should be integrated into regular classrooms. UNICEF calls this Inclusive Education. I agree with UNICEF about Inclusive Education, although teachers may not have the right knowledge about disabled children. The teacher may teach such students things they already know, or teaching them things way too hard for their level. UNICEF solves this problem by training teachers in regular schools how to interact with disabled children. If a family is lucky, they can send their child to a regular school, where they can learn to interact with all children instead of just with children with special needs in special schools. Sometimes families of children with special needs do not even have the money to send their child to any school at all. In other cases the family does not believe the child is capable of learning, and these children are called “out of school” children.
Overall, I agree with UNICEF’s mission that every child should have the right to quality education no matter what. Without education, children will not able to find a job when they grow up to help not only themselves, but also their society. Without jobs the society does not earn as much money, and the society may even become a dangerous place in which to live. This idea is similar to that of the food chain; without mosquitos there are no flies, then there are no snakes, then there are no eagles, etc. Quality education is interconnected with the society thriving and prospering. According to UNICEF, “an added year of quality education can increase an individual’s income by 10 per cent.” (www.unicef.org).
Lastly, I also agree with UNICEF that children with disabilities should be included in the same schools as children without disabilities in order to have a fair chance for quality education. In my elementary school in the United States, I had a friend in the fourth grade with a Down Syndrome, a type of disability. Interacting with her not only helped her learn, but I also learned the value of caring. If children with disabilities like this are included with children without disabilities, all the children are going to learn something, take something away from the experience.
“Let’s play Կլաս (pronounced klass)!” I yelled. Everyone came rushing toward me, their faces lit up in excitement. We stacked our hands on top of each other to decide the order. This is called a Ցելա (Pronounced tsela). How tselas work is very simple. It’s very similar to a coin flip, only you flip your hand, with many other people. If everyone flipped their hand and their palm was up, all except for one person, that one person is out, or first place. The same thing would work if everyone’s palm was facing down, except for one person.
Back to the game. My cousin Սուրեն (Suren) was first place, I was second, my distant cousin Էմիլիա (Emily) was third, Isabelle was fourth, my other distant cousin Դավիդ (David) was fifth, and my other cousin Արփի (Arpi) was the last.
We quickly ran inside to get some chalk. I opened a drawer and powdery chalk fell out. I gingerly picked it up and ran back outside. Suren had already started drawing with some other chalk he found, and he already had the one square finished. Soon the two and three squares started taking shape, along with fourth and fifth, followed by sixth, seventh, and eighth. Lastly, we drew the ninth and “the home base,” wiping chalk dust off our hands. “Everyone! Find some rocks!’ I yelled happily. We all scattered, searching to find the best rocks. In Armenia, when playing this game, you throw a rock to the first square, do the hopscotch routine, and if any of your feet didn’t touch the lines of the boxes, you can throw to the second square. If your rock doesn’t fall in the square, then it’s the next person’s turn. When you make it “home”, or until the ‘tenth’ square, you throw you rock backwards to any square, but without looking. Whichever square it lands on, that’s your home. Now, no one else can enter that square, they have to skip over it. Once you make it to the second round, instead of doing the regular hopscotch routine, you jump in each square with both feet, and you can rest in your “home”. For the third round, you jump in each square with your right foot, and you have two homes. The same for the third round, only with three “home bases” and with your left foot. Once you make it home on the third round, you win.
There are many other games in Armenia, like Armenian “hide and seek”, all of which I think are much more fun than American games. In America, as kids get older, they don’t play as many games. For example, In America, eleven-year olds don’t play hopscotch as much. In Armenia, wherever you look there are kids playing, no matter the gender or age. Twelve year olds may be playing the same game with the five year olds. Also, in Armenia, most of the games are athletic, almost every game includes running.
In Armenia, all the streets are safe, safer than in America. Because of the fact that Armenia is small, most residents in Yerevan and in the villages, have a good sense of community. If you are walking down any given street in Yerevan, you will meet many people you know, and they will talk to you, start conversations as if you were their closest friend. There are birds everywhere, even in Yerevan. There is almost no crime, especially in the villages. Overall, the studies show that crime rate in Armenia is low, and much lower than in many other countries. My sister Isabelle says that in the villages, the worst crime is ants stealing your food!
If you would like to know more about Armenian games, then visit Armenia, the large family. We welcome you with open arms.
I laughed in delight as cold water splashed on my back. It was Vardavar (Vart-a-var), also known as Jrotsi (Jr-o-tse), in Armenia. Vardavar is an Armenian holiday when people throw water on each other. Vardavar history dates back before Christianity, during the Pagan times. It is believed that the goddess Astghik threw rosewater on everyone to spread love to everyone in Armenia. Another theory is that when Noah’s ark landed in Armenia, Noah ordered his sons to throw water on each other as a commemoration of the flood.
My cousins Suren and Arpi were staying over, and we were celebrating Vardavar in Bjni, a small village in Armenia. I shot my water gun at Isabelle and Arpi, for I was on a team with Suren. Isabelle happily shrieked as cold water hit her in the back. My bare feet splashed on the wet pavement, throwing up small waves as I ran. I took my gun and shot over the wall that separated our property from the neighbor’s. Satisfaction surged threw me as I heard the gleeful screams on the other side. All of a sudden cold water hit me in my back as Isabelle shot at me. “Oh no you don’t!” I yelled, shooting at her. We were deep in a battle with each other when water rained down on both of us from above. I looked up, not a cloud in the sky. I heard giggling from the other side of the wall. “Everyone, attack! The neighbors are attacking us!” I screamed. We all ran inside to get some bowls, as we threw water over the wall. More water sprayed from their side, as I realized their weapon. “They have a hose!” I shrieked. Our team had a hose too, just we weren’t allowed to use it until my uncle Artak came. Immediately we shot our guns and threw water to the other side. We were so deep in our battle that we didn’t notice a car pull into our driveway. “Artak!” I yelled. My uncle was finally here! I ran barefoot into the house, rushing to hug him. To my surprise, my baby cousin Areg was here too! Even better! “Areg!” I said, as I ran to kiss him.
Soon Artak was engaged in the battle between neighbors, which soon became a war. Now, both teams had hoses and water guns. “Artak?” Came a voice from behind the wall. “Spartak!” Artak yelled, “You better watch out!” He turned the hose on and water started gushing out, of course, cold. Screams sparked up from the other side as my uncle sprayed the hose. We were so deep in battle that we didn’t notice one of the warriors from the other team snuck up with a bucket. Soon we were all drenched in water as the warrior scampered off. “How dare you!” Suren shrieked, his hair dripping with water droplets. “Guys, watch this!” I yelled. I ran with my bucket to their property, and dumped the water onto them. Now the war was also engaged through the path connecting our yards. My cousins and Isabelle came for backup, with my little sister Helen not far behind. Water shot through the air as the war raged on and on, until finally the neighbor’s had used every little drop of energy. “We need to rest! Plus, someone turned our water off!” One of their warriors shouted, declaring our victory.
The day was coming to an end, finishing with wet clothes and drenched children. If you come to Armenia in the summer, July 23 especially, I recommend wearing a swimsuit under your clothing, because it’s going to get wet!
My feet sank into the muddy ground as I climbed up the steep mountain to the old thirteenth century monastery Matosavank. Isabelle, my sister, and I were leading a small group of tourists up the hike. Our group was made up of my mother’s students, Dan and Erica; a graduate student from the U.S., Nichali; my mother; a Lithuanian family of four; my mother’s friend Alexandra, or Alex; another professor from the US; and my grandfather, Suren Ohanyan.
My mother ripped the silence by announcing she and Dan were going to walk my grandfather back down the mountain, because the hike was proving too hard for my grandfather. “Elise and Isabelle, you two are in charge.” Isabelle and I had hiked up the mountain in the middle of winter a few years ago, and we recognized the path. By following trees marked with arrows we made our way up the mountain.
All of a sudden the road forked off into two paths. The main road continued to the right, although five arrows on different trees pointed to a small footpath. “I think we take the footpath,” Isabelle said, “Yeah, me too.” I agreed. So we led the group single file on the footpath, for it was only wide enough for one or two people.
After almost an hour of walking, we came to a small sign that gave some background information about Matosavank. The thirteenth century monastery was built in the year 1251 by Avag and Ivane Zakarian of the Orbelian Dynasty. My breath was ripped away from me as the church came into view. As we filed in single file through the one entrance, our eyes were blinded by the beauty. The church consists of three rooms, the porch, the church, and the book depository. One of the walls was built entirely of Khatchkars, or crosstones. Two small holes in the ceiling lit up the church, illuminating the space around us. Part of the wall was cracked, letting plants grow inside.
We set up a picnic near a strange rock, with thick moss growing over it. “Maybe it’s a gravestone,” suggested Erica, although there was no visible writing on it. “It might just be a fallen rock,” Nichali thought aloud. “Well, there’s only one way to find out!” Alex joked. Nichali took out some wine and we all had some, all except Isabelle and me of course.
We talked for almost an hour until Erica received a call from Dan. We all listened in on the conversation. “Where are you guys? Can you wait?” Dan asked, his voice fuzzy over the phone. “Why? We’re already here.” Erica responded. “Are you guys lost?” Continued Erica. “Well, I wouldn’t use the word lost…” Dan said, chuckling, although I could hear my mother’s yells in the background. “No, no! We are lost!” We all laughed. “Do any of you remember a fallen tree on your path?” aAsked Dan. “Do any of you guys remember a fallen tree on the path?” repeated Erica. “Well I do,” I blurted. It was on the wrong path.” I said. “Yes,” Erica breathed into the speaker. “It was on the wrong path.” Erica continued. “Should we come and get you?” She asked. “Nah, I think we’re good. We’ll call again later if we need help.” Dan responded. Thankfully we received no more calls, and, almost an hour later my mother’s shirt came into view. “I can’t believe you got lost in your own country!” I teased my mother. “Well, we used google maps until we saw one of the arrows and followed it back here,” she responded. The adults enjoyed another bottle of wine together and off we went, leaving the hidden monastery behind us.
I gasp in astonishment as the great church looms ahead of us. My grandparents are taking my cousins Arpi and Suren, Elise, Helen (my little sister) and me to Ghegard. Geghard is a very old church and monastery that attracts tourists the way a picnic attracts ants. As we leave the grand entrance behind us, there is a wide courtyard. The church is accompanied by a breathtaking scene of cliffs against blue sky. There is a big rock in the middle of the courtyard. To the left of the rock the church is visible, silhouetted against the late afternoon sky. I am so astonished I forget to feel annoyed at the heat licking at my neck, making sweat dribble down my head. My grandfather yanks me out of my daze by herding us into the church. As we walk inside, we crane our necks to see the intricate carvings along the church walls. For a second all we can see is black as our eyes adjust to the dim light the candles provide. A few windows also give light that shimmers down to cast shadows on the hard, rock floor. I hear my grandfather explaining the history of the church to us. I stop admiring the sights of the old church to hear him explain how the church was carved into a cliff, not made out of brick like other churches. My grandmother leaves us to go buy candles.
Our grandfather warns us to stick together so we don’t get lost. I wouldn’t want to be lost here, in this old eerie church. My grandfather explains whenever there was a war, the Armenian people would hide in the church. There would be one person who would warn the others to hide, then the others would retreat into one of the many rooms the church has. Just the thought of people coming here to hide, stepping on these very floors, sends shivers down my spine. The main room branches off into many other smaller rooms, many of them partially hidden from view. Our grandfather ushers us through an entry I didn’t even know was there. Inside was a room almost as big as the first, but this one had a small stream running throughout the room.
I looked at Suren and Elise. Suren had a curious glint in his eye, and I could tell he wanted to see where the stream came from. We weaved our way through the crowds of people and finally arrived at one of the corners of the room where there was water squirting out of a room about the size of a walk-in closet. People were washing themselves in the holy water, spreading it across their thighs. Our grandfather caught up to us and told us to wait until there were less people to bathe ourselves in the sacred water. Soon, after a family came out of the small room all wet and dripping and we seized our chance get wet. We stepped through puddles and I finally got a good view of the small fountain. I felt the water dribble down my legs as I splashed myself on the knees. I looked up and saw people with iphones using the light to light up the dark space. I wondered how they lit up the church without iphones. Probably with torches, I guessed. After a few minutes we were soaked and we made our way back to our grandfather. He was holding candles, so my grandmother came back.
Soon after our grandmother arrived, her mouth dripping with the water and arms shiny. I find it odd that some people drink the water. I guess it’s clean. I feel my father patting my back and pointing out a whole in the ceiling. “This is where the Armenian people escaped the war into the second floor of the church. A messenger would arrive with news of war and shout through the hole to warn the others.” The hole was ragged around the edges, and just big enough for a person to get through. Another shiver makes it’s way down my spine. This is a beautiful place during the day, but at night I would not want to be trapped here! “Do you see the hole at the top of the church?” asks my grandfather. I nod. That is where diggers carved out the church. They came in from the top and made their way down. The reason this church has been around for so long is because it was not made out of separate bricks that erode easily,” he finishes. It must have been very difficult to carve a whole church!
Our grandfather shows us the stairs that lead to the second floor of a church. Once we enter there is a place where priests probably preached. “There’s the hole!” says Elise. Sure enough, there is the hole. The hole that opens up the secrets to Armenia…
My eyes stretched wide with amazement when my mother, Elise, Helen and I stepped into the studio. There were paintings everywhere I looked! We were visiting painters’ studio. As we walked around, admiring everything, Abgar Khachatryan, one of the painters working there, told us that he painted with his brother and father. His wife made scarfs and then painted pretty designs on them. Basically the whole family did some kind of art. Even Abgar’s little girl who I think was four, drew with chalk.
Abgar showed us where ‘his corner’ was. His corner was basically where he painted. Abgar mostly did collages. His most frequently used materials looked like different kinds of metals. Abgar’s wife, Ani, called Elise and I over to show us how she made scarfs. She already had the outline of a design on a scarf done so she finished it with us. She told us that once you put one drop of paint on the leather, the paint rapidly spreads. At the end, she told us that once she paints that background of her designs, she adds salt on them. After that you add salt on the scarf and you leave it for a while. So that’s exactly what we did.
For a second I literally thought that the walls were the paintings. My mother was standing in front of a painting while Abgar was explaining how most of the paintings in this room were his father’s, Sergey Khachatryan’s. There was this one painting on which my eyes rested on. On one part of the painting it looked like there was a photo of a little blond haired girl. I looked closer. It was no photo, it was a painting! This guy must be an expert!
My mother picked out about a billion paintings that she wanted to get, and poor Ani had to bring them all out so my mother could make her final decision. “You and Isabelle can each pick out one painting of your choice.” said my mother. Apparently Elise had one in mind, because her response was “Really?”. There is this one painting I want…” “Which painting is that?” I asked her. The painting is of a girl wearing a green dress and holding a black kitten.” We had just read the Warrior series by Erin Hunter (I recommend it!), so we were really interested in cats. Abgar thought he knew which painting Elise was talking about, so he shuffled around some of the paintings and came out with a painting. I knew it was the right one because when he brought it out, Elise’s eyes literally turned into hearts.
I asked Ani if the scarf we put salt on was ready. She said that it wouldn’t do any harm if we checked on it. We walked over to where the scarf was kept. Ani took the scarf and rapidly shook it. All the salt fell off. In place of the salt were now little white dots. It really was a good background design.
Today was a nice experience and I would gladly return. I learned a lot today, (good thing I know where we keep the salt at our house!) As we were leaving, I was thinking that this would make a good blog post, and in fact, I don’t think that my hypothesis was wrong at all!
Okay, this is it! My mother tells the taxi driver. The car comes to a sudden halt. It was my friend Tatev’s birthday party. Apparently she was spending it at a restaurant called Good Time. I didn’t know this at the time, but indeed, I really would have a great time. Anyway, the building looked pretty promising, but, never judge a building by its looks. So I held my breath and walked inside.
This seems exciting! The floor of the building was tiled and it seemed like we were on the second floor of the place. As we walked in, I recognized Tatev at once. She looked very excited to see us.
“Okay, whoever wears one of these bands, will be a team leader. By the way, this is not a race,” said Sona, Tatev’s mother. I held my breath, I don’t want to be a team leader. “Okay, Tatev, you can be a leader…” And I couldn’t really hear what she said next because I got carried away looking at the decorations on the wall. Then Tatev’s cousin Nouneh said, “Do we have to split up?” Everyone agreed that we should stick together.
Our first stop was bumper cars. In case if you don’t know, bumper cars are basically miniature cars. The goal of bumper cars is to “have fun” and bump the other cars. Normally I would be excited but now I was a little nervous. As I chose a bumper car, I noticed two handles on the side. They each said “tornado” on them. I realize this is silly but I was getting really nervous. While the operator was explaining how to work the car, I noticed that not everybody was driving a car. I wondered what would happen if I offered them to drive my car. And then I heard a siren signaling the start. Too late for that chance now! Since I was not listening while the operator explained how to work the car, I did an experimental push to the left handle. The bumper car moved backwards while sliding to the left. Now I understood how to work the cars.
“That was fun”, I said as we were getting out of the cars. There was not even a spark of nervousness left in me. But as soon as I realized what was next, it returned. The next event was an enormous bubble where one or two or sometimes even three people get inside the bubble and move around. I had done this before, but the rule there was one person per bubble. After the first group was done with their turn, there was not a pang of nervousness, but this time there was also not any curiosity either, so I skipped that activity. (The first group looked like just a bunch of hamsters in a wheel anyway).
“Okay, since both of our birthday boys are interested in hip hop, we will do a little hip hop dancing!” said the master of ceremonies. Yes, there were three birthdays going on at the same time. One of them was Tatev’s. On the big screen appeared a group of teenage boys and girls dancing hip hop. Apparently we were supposed to copy whatever they did. Wow. I think I’ll pass. … Too late for that. The master of ceremonies herself walked up to me and made me dance.
“This chicken is bland” I said, but I really liked the french fries and the salads. The lemonade tasted like a bunch of lemons and limes with no sugar at all, but plenty of something I can’t really put my finger on. Thank goodness when I heard the master of ceremonies yell “All children, come for another gaa-aeme!!!!!!” This game was no better than hip hop dancing because you had to guess movies and I wasn’t too good with movies. And, they didn’t have The Martian!!!
My heart stopped beating when I saw the 6 year old little girl jump off. I was looking at the activity where a staff member straps you to some ropes and gives you a helmet. Then you jump off from about 12 meters high drop. It was scary just looking at it!!! Then I literally thought I would faint when only the helmet came back up. Was the girl okay? Then I heard something on the stairs and thank God it was the girl. Apparently you jump two floors. When you land, another staff member on the floor where you land, catches you, and clips your helmet to the vest you wear. Then he sends the helmet, vest and all, back up.
“Is there enough money in your band for me to ice skate, too?” I asked Tatev. She answered my plead. “There is only enough for one person in mine, if I had enough for two people in mine I would gladly let you try, too.”The ice skating wasn’t real ice skating but it still looked fun. You skated on something very similar to ice but not exactly like ice. I watched as they glided and slid on the ‘ice’. Oh well.
“Oh geez” I said as I watched Tatev sit on the moon. Good Time had a big silver moon that birthday children sit on. Then the moon went up to the ceiling and let them make a wish and then bring them back down. Thankfully Tatev quickly made her wish and they brought her back down. The cake was strawberry flavored. It was pretty delicious.
“Hmmm.” I sighed. “Thats a nice wall.” Then something blurry slid down the wall. My heart stopped beating for about two full seconds. I realized it was a person who slid down the wall. I think Tatev noticed the surprised expression on my face because then she said “I’ve never ridden that slide in my life” Yes, she said SLIDE!! Oh, it’s only a vertical SLIDE!!!!! I’m never riding that in my life! “And did you know, Noone’s birthday is at the Water World! (A park of water)”. Gulp!
YARP hello from Elise! This story will be from Spitak the dog’s point of view who accompanied crowds of protesters since July 17th, when the protests started in Yerevan. “Spitak” means “white”.
***
Shouts filled the air at the protest. The scent of humans filled my nose. Wherever I looked, there were humans. The whole place was full of them! Then one of them bent down to me and said, “What are you doing here, you stray?” I just sniffed his paws (feet). “You silly!” It said and rubbed my ear. “Shoo now, go!” I obeyed. I looked around. Humans everywhere, still! This is paradise.
I ran ahead of the group of people when I bumped into yet another group. This group was holding some kind of a shield. They wore red berets and blue uniforms that said ‘POLICE’. Will someone tell me what that means? Maybe the ‘police’ knew. So I asked them. Jumping up on my hind paws, I barked and waged my tail. One of the ‘police’ just pushed me off with his shield. Such rudeness!
I ran back to the nice group of people, dressed freely, and carrying whatever they want. When I jumped up on my hind legs barking and wagging my tail at them, they would rub my ears, feed me, and talk to me. A blond haired she-human (a woman), called me over to her. “Spitak! That’s your name. When we call it, you come. Alright?” I barked and stuck my tongue out. “Good dog.” She said and gave me lavash, Armenian bread.
Some of the ‘POLICE’ people have dogs too! Most of them are friendly, although one is mean to me. The dog I’m closest with is Sevouk. We talk together, laugh together, but very rarely. Usually the ‘POLICE’ shoo me off. When that happens, I go to warming comfort of the nice people. One time I gathered up the wits to go and bark in the face of the ‘POLICE’.
My white fur was now almost grey, even though I washed it every night. But that didn’t matter to me. I had bigger problems on my mind. The ‘POLICE’ was mean to the nice group of people. They yelled things at them with big microphones, threatened them, and sometimes even threw things that erupted in mid air at them. The people didn’t like that though. They were furious! I caught a glimpse of TV stations interviewing a lady who was shouting her head off. You could practically see the the smoke coming out of her ears.
The nice humans and I, we were all one big group, which reminded me of a one angry DOG. That one DOG would fight against the ‘POLICE’, which were all one big synchronized group of chained dogs, and unkind humans, which reminded me of a man-made human-dog robot, capturing and hurting the one big angry DOG. And they would fight together, and feel the wrath of each other, and that fight hasn’t ended yet.
I still have hope though, since the thing that happened that day, around a week ago. The same blond haired lady spotted me and called me over. “Spitak! Come here for a minute.” So I trotted over to her. “Listen Spitak, I have hope. Hope because of you. You give me hope, you are like a symbol of peace walking around on legs. You’re my mascot. My little white mascot. I had a dog like you once,” Then sirens wailed and the ‘POLICE’ shattered the memories that were being made. “Hurry now, the police are coming. Get away while you still have the chance, Spitak! I’ll remember you all my life, just shoo, get away!” Her voice faded away as the sirens became louder.
I have no idea what’s going to happen to the one big upset DOG, or me, but ‘till then, we will continue fighting this fight together, until we work out a solution. I always wonder if the blond haired lady still remembers me, but I always remember her. And I still have hope, I will continue to have hope until this fight is over.
One thing to know about me: I have a Facebook Page, whatever that is!
Today we are in Bjni village as always, only we are having guests this time. One of the guests is Judith Sarian. Ms. Sarian is from Boston, and she translated books by Zabel Yesayan. Zabel Yesayan was an Armenian writer, women’s right activist, and a teacher in Ottoman Turkey. She lived in the beginning of the 20th century. Zabel Yesayan was the only woman on the list of intellectuals targeted for arrest and deportation by the Ottoman Turkish government, according to Wikipedia.
“Do you guys want to go to Takavoranist (Bjni’s Fortress)?” my mom suggested. The guests agreed happily. So off we went. The drive isn’t long by car, but the footpath is a bit longer. We took the river path to get to Bjni Fortress. We crossed ‘the bridge with no railing’, that’s what I call it, and onto the side of the road. This road didn’t have a sidewalk; there are not many sidewalks in the villages of Armenia. We kept following that path until we reached the foot of a large hill. Bjni Fortress is found at the top of the hill.
“The fortress of Bjni was built in the 9th to 10th centuries by the royal Pahlavuni family of the Bagratuni Dynasty,” as quoted by Wikipedia. It was reconstructed by the commander of Bjni, lord Vasak. In 1021 Bjni was attacked by the Turkish soldiers of the Daylamis, who robbed and attacked towns and villages. Vasak and his troops became furious and attacked the enemy forces. They met in battle near the Kasakh river, and Vasak and his troops killed 300 enemy soldiers, causing the rest to flee. After fighting, Vasak became tired and went for a nap at the foot of a mountain. A man who had to flee the village of Bjni came and spotted Vasak asleep and hit him with a near death blow. He then killed Vasak by throwing him from one of the high rocks.
I personally think that was an evil thing to do, since Vasak had just saved the town from destruction. Well, all people have different opinions. The enemy soldiers remind me of character in the book I’m reading, the Warriors series, authored by Erin Hunter, about four clans of cats. One of the cats, Tigerstar, is a bloodthirsty male cat who plans of destroying the forest and robbing prey from other clans.
One cool thing about Bjni Fortress is that it has a tunnel that goes underground. People covered it and closed it with a gate, so no one would accidentally fall in. When we went, there were lights inside, and the small door was open. We didn’t go far though, since the stairs leading underground didn’t look safe anymore. After we walked some, we saw a light we thought was natural, soon figuring out we were wrong. At the point where the stairs started looking more fragile, we climbed back up to the entrance. The Bjni Fortress is an amazing site, and I think everyone should have a chance to experience the wonders of Bjni.
