Wow. It’s only been the fourth day of camp in Gyumri and I have already been having just the experience I desired to gain from this trip and even more. I remember approaching the school, Toumanyan 3, for the first time and seeing hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at me, burning with curiosity. All the worries, concerns, and apprehensions I had erupted into a mini panic attack as questions ran through my mind. How would I be accepted and judged by the children, their parents, Gyumri locals and other adults we worked with? I hoped my Armenian would be good enough. Would the camp run smoothly? Would I know what to do all the time? We had to leave a good impression and be as organized and coordinated as they expected of us. Ready or not, over 100 children were waiting impatiently for the day to begin.

Thus the day began and we accepted, registered and divided 110 children (over our original limit) into three color groups. The entire day was an semi- organized chaos and definitely did not follow schedule, but this was expected. By the end of the day I had forgotten my apprehensions and in return received a genuine embrace and wet kiss from every single child in my color group as if I would never see them again. During arts and crafts, Liana, who quickly took a liking for me, wrote ” I love Ungerouhi Sevana” on her collage. On our way back home after the first day, I already began to miss the children, even the naughty ones, and deliberated which select few I would pack in my suit case and take back home to LA with me. By the second day I received a handmade ring from a girl in my group, Siranoush and got my hair made into a professional French braid by Angelica. By the third day, I had a fan club of boys at my heels, the regulars with whom I had heated debates regarding Barcelona and Real Madrid. Being a diehard Barcelona fan I simultaneously made lifelong friends and enemies. It was clear that the children didn’t like us, they loved us and looked up to us with a humble reverence and curiosity. We had formed irreversible relationships with each child we interacted with and that’s what I ultimately wanted. The adults we worked with as well as the children’s parents addressed us with respect and treated us as equals. It was clear that we were appreciated.

Since the moment my feet touched Armenian soul, I have been searching for the feeling of comfort and belonging that I should feel in my homeland. Thus far, I have discovered that place here in Gyumri for the next two weeks.

Sevana Manukian

Whereas an average American child might not consider the supplies we brought to camp particularly remarkable or envy-worthy, two kids from Gyumri refocus our city-dweller perspectives.  Those two young boys, who unfortunately were denied entrance into the camp due to space limitations, happened to jump through the window of our office and steal two deflated soccer balls before disappearing from the school.

Of course, every child should be taught theft of any sort wrong, immoral, an undeserved gain, yet, as has already been mentioned, this particular instance, along with any interaction I’ve experienced so far in Armenia, relies heavily on challenging your perspective.  Imagine a room full of personal belongings, several purses filled with cameras, cell phones, wallets, passports, you name it, even a laptop equipped with wi-fi capabilities, just lying unguarded for the taking.  Then imagine thrown carelessly in the corner an unassuming cardboard box full of drug-store quality soccer balls.  Most people would either have to squint or would not even care to cast a second glance at the yet-shapeless toys.  But not those two children who, although their only unsatisfied desire within that entire treasure trove lay deflated in the corner, we must inherently call thieves and punish in order to set an example.

How the balls were retrieved or whether the kids learned their lesson does not concern me.  What matters more is the lesson I took which taught me to value every single slice of bread, every single piece of chalk, every single line in the childrens’ notebooks as if they were as important as the laptop conveying this message.  The purity and humility of the students astounds me daily.  Watching their hesitation as they sit on the ground for games like Butt Volleyball in case their pants should get ruined, or their timidity as they sit down for lunch, some even preferring to fake full stomachs when the food provided conflicts with their food allergies, makes me so lucky to be able to call such proud children my own, my nation’s future.  Without taking more than they need, at least at present, these kids demonstrate the modest yet noble perspectives which should frame the future of any happy society.  Today, Armenia fights to regain much of what she lost of her ancient heritage through years of war in regions like Karabakh and Western Armenia.  I hope we can follow the example set by the two boys from Gyumri, taking what is most precious to us and not being blinded by greed.

After all, doesn’t everyone have the right to the happiness won from a single, coveted soccer ball?

Margarit Gabuchian

I thought I knew what a real Armenian barbecue was about coming from Glendale, California where on Sunday’s my family would get together and have khorovats. However, after experiencing our first khorovats picnic in Gyumri I realized I was completely wrong. The day before the men in our group went shopping with Unger Kevork (the local Gyumri ARF representative for our group) and told us to expect the unexpected. All we were told is that we were going to a lake where we would have our picnic, swim, then come home.

Sunday morning we woke up at 8am and made the trek over to the highest point in Shirak Marz (the region where Gyumri is located)… our van could not even make it to the point where we were going to barbecue. We climbed up to our spot where the town leader (kyooghabed) brought us some essentials we had conveniently forgotten. While the girls relaxed some of the men began collecting the food, sorting it, and preparing. Instead of bringing a manghal the rest of the men began collecting materials from the forest to start the fire.   This picnic turned into the ultimate experience as we spread out our sleeping bags, sat in a big circle, and ate our food with lavash but no plates while mingling with the local Shirak-tsis. After completing our delicious and filling meal we began asking Unger Kevork where the lake was. To our surprise the lake was not a lake at all but actually the towns irrigation reservoir. We made our way down to the “lake” and jumped in immediately! Although the water was freezing we all got in and swam across the lake and back. Although the picnic was not what I had expected I had a great time with my family laughing, bonding, and soaking in the ultimate Gyumri experience. This is one barbecue I will definitely never forget!

Adrienne

On July 11, we made our way down a nameless street in the rain, kind of nervous that the rain might discourage kids from coming to the first day of our camp. But no, we were welcomed by more than 200 kids who wanted to be part of the first session of 2011 AYF Camp Gyumri. Our capacity, supplies, and resources would only allow us to accept 100 campers. This meant that we would have to do the unthinkable and turn kids away. Our hearts couldn’t say no to all of them so we decided to take in an extra 10 kids and make our supplies last by giving up our lunches.

First we divided the kids into three groups; red, blue, and orange. The counselors started by getting to know all the kids, who excitedly ran around telling stories of past participation in our camp, trying to impress us with the English that they had learned and asking about games and activities we would play.

After they lined up in their color lines, we began our day with “Mshag Panvor” the ARF’s anthem. It was obvious that some knew and others wanted to fit in so they were mumbling words. Our first activity was the “I am” collage. The kids were given a piece of construction paper and were asked to write about everything that describes them. Some wrote poems, other wrote about their hobbies, others about their activities, some drew their favorite food… Two people stood out the most in our red team. One drew Ararat and told us he wants his house to be right by it. Another one wrote how she wishes that there will never be any war in Armenia and her country could remain peaceful.

After lunch, the kids were so excited to continue learning songs to sings at the top of their. Later we played dodgeball (bader), which of course Red team won!!

Our day ended with Mer Hayrenik, the Armenian national anthem, which every single person poured their heart into. It was unexpected that every single girl came up to all the girl councilors and kissed each one of us. The guys were kind of shy and said bye from far away, but im sure we’ll all get closer as the days pass.

We walked back home with hope in our hearts that we will run an amazing Camp and will touch the lives of 110 kids, and they too would touch our hearts, and they will remember us for the rest of their lives. 12 of us walked back home knowing that our first day was a success and our hearts were filled with self-fulfillment that we were here for a reason, and we would be the small pieces of the bridge between our homeland and those who live outside its borders.

Verginie Touloumian