A genuine smile with few teeth is preferable to an empty smile with beautiful teeth.

America might be beautiful with its accessible luxuries and social necessities but how far can that beauty take you to happiness? Being in Armenia has allowed me to realize the difference between genuine happiness and fabricated happiness.

There are problems in Armenia, many problems that don’t have easy or quick solutions. But how can I dwell on the problems when I meet a “dadik” serving corn on the road smiling as we come upon her. We were on the road to Dilijan when we stopped at a random corn stall. The “dadik” smiled when she saw that we were a group of young Armenians; one could tell how happy she was to meet us. The warmth of her smile gave our group a strong connection to this newly met woman.

Another person we encountered that left an impression upon me was an old man from Dilijan. We were walking around the village and we saw a small opening, we decided to go near, when we got close to the opening we realized that it was a shack with an old man inside. We slowly started to walk away not knowing that it was inhabited, but then the old man began to come out to greet us. He was equipped with a hammer, dusty clothes and a smile. This man goes on to explain how he recently purchased this room and is currently under renovation. We died of laughter as we walked back to the van! Thinking of these two individuals from two separate places in Armenia brings a smile to my face. Both were from different places, but were extremely welcoming regardless of their situations.

Some might say that these people are blissfully ignorant without having American resources and innovations, but I believe that America has been blinded by its own progression. Regardless of the problems and tribulations my country and my people have been put through, happiness exists and we want to be a part of fostering good spirits. Happiness can be created in many ways, whether it is through the relationships made with the sharing of corn or through being welcomed into one’s personal home.

America’s smile can captivate and mesmerize people with its razzle-dazzle, and although Armenia is missing some teeth and does not have that eerily perfectness, I am more likely to return that smile.

Tamar Barsoumian

Previous AYF Youth Corps participants told us aspiring campers would anxiously await their two weeks at camp gathered in groups in the field in front of the school. That’s exactly how the day started.

One hundred fifty children of Gyumri’s future, some shy, some loud, some first timers, some returners, some seven years old, some fourteen, some unafraid, some disciplined, some untamed, all excited, lined the courtyard.

As is done every year, we split the group into three colors red, blue, and orange. Almost immediately, the kids began chanting. It was as if the campers had been in these groups forever.

After conducting lessons, we walked from the school to the park to play Steal the Bacon. The entire walk through the city, the campers were chanting, repeatedly proclaiming their love for their newly formed teams. Welcoming locals watched our parade from their windows. It seemed like all of Gyumri wanted to join in.

Soon after, the first day of Camp Gyumri ended the same way it began, with one hundred fifty members of Gyumri’s future lining the courtyard, all individuals, but all excited.

Emilia Der Sarkissian

After touring all week, I was excited to be in the comfort of Armenia’s AYF, Hye Yerdasartats Miyoutioun (HEM). When we first arrived, we went to a room with all the HEM members; it was somewhat intimidating and awkward. I didn’t know what to really talk to them about or how to interact with them. However, in literally less than five minutes, conversations were flowing and lifetime friendships were being made; it was as if we had been reunited with old friends. It was amazing how well we got along and it was beautiful to see these new friendships growing. It was especially interesting to see that the HEM members shared the same organizational issues that we have locally such as recruitment, member retention, meeting productivity, etc.

The AYF building is rather impressive; one floor is devoted to Badanegan, another for Yerdasartats, and a third floor serves as a conference room, computer room and a game room. It was a proud moment for me to see how much our counterparts in Armenia do. We do as much as we can from the Diaspora but to see the Armenians here, also devoted, gives me a sense of hope. To know we have people here also trying to accomplish the same goals is reinvigorating. We think we’re so different than the locals here, but in reality were much of the same. We’re all tashnagtzagan yerdasartagans. We all go to school, we all work and fight for our nation. The only thing really separating us is the seven thousand miles between us.

Carnie Bedoyan

Standing on the edge of a steep cliff and looking out into Armenia’s pristine natural environment brings about a sense of clarity and peace. Lingering under the dark shadows of the Haghartsin Monastery connects one with the dynastic worlds of our forefathers. Looking out through the dusty trails at the homes of the locals transplants one to a time and place that we recognize, but do not fully understand. The outlines of far-off villages stand out like scars through the landscape, morphing together the pain of their creation and the beauty of their endurance.  The dizzying churn of chatter and laughter only hint at the centuries of human persistence at that very time and place.

Yet, through all the grandeur provided by the surrounding environment, I could not keep my attention away from the thousands of small wildflowers that lightly dotted the hillsides. Beautiful shades of white, yellow and purple added the perfect touch of color to the cool, dark atmosphere.  With the whisper of our passage lingering throughout the majestic monastery and its surroundings, we began to gather to continue onto the next leg of our journey.  I went over to one of these flowers and “picked” it. I tugged too close to the bulb and the entire flower crumbled into my palm. I tried again, but the next one fell victim in the same manner. Disappointed, I turned and walked away. A friend, upon seeing this situation unfold, jokingly asked, “do you not know how to pick flowers?” Lightly holding the flower, he demonstrated how moving it from the stem repeatedly in an opposite direction could release the flower. I was surprised. This was simple and I was not used to simple.

I had never really known how to pick flowers, nor had I ever wanted to. The purely simple task of picking a flower had not ever presented itself to me as even the least gratifying. It was so easy to become lost into a whirlwind of school, family, meetings, organizations, responsibilities and externalities. The simple things in life had gotten lost somewhere along the way. The constant search for identity, ever-changing standards, and constant expectations can take a lot out of a person. Life had always been about knowing what I wanted and charting how I wanted to achieve it. In a matter of a short time, I’ve realized that there are so many intricacies to our surroundings that we neglect. We close ourselves off to challenges and dictate ourselves on a set identity we have created. Embracing challenges allows us to foster our innate sense of being, looking past what we have fabricated for ourselves for our personal benefits and peace of mind.

Coming to Armenia, I have realized that life is a lot simpler than we make it out to be. Life is simple. We are complex. The fusion of the general simplicity with life’s challenges can blind a person to all that is important. Simplicity is elusive. We don’t need to know where to look for it or how to look for it. We just need to look. We need to take the time out from the constant hum and drum and just appreciate our surroundings. People do not rush here. They take the time to sit on the bench at the park. They have real conversations. Life here is not about subsidizing time between Point A and Point B, but about making each point worthwhile. We meet people here and we remember them. We do things for the right reasons, not based on calculations but simply because they make us happy.

Thus far, my time in Armenia has brought about an unexpected sense of clarity. It has presented many challenges, but it has also given me the gift of perspective. It is up to me to embrace this gift.  Simple wildflowers on a hillside have taught me how to look at things with a new sense of appreciation. Look at everything with a new set of eyes and learn to not take things for granted. There is wonder and beauty in every situation and it is completely up to us to figure how it manifests itself.
Nare Kupelian