Gorgeous Geghard

June 26, 2017

YARP Greetings from Isabelle!

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…