Coming to Armenia, we all knew that putting on the first ever AYF Youth Corps Jampar in Baghanis would be an experience of a lifetime. Since it is a small town with a small population and not a single one of us had ever been there, nobody really knew what to expect.  Now that we have spent a week in Baghanis, we’ve, for the most part, adjusted to the way of life here. We have also seen many differences between the kids here and those that participated in our other camps.  We noticed these differences through many aspects of camp throughout different parts of the day.  For example, take Wednesday’s simple arts and crafts activity. It started off like any other Jampar activity.  We asked the kids to draw two pictures: one of how they see Baghanis now, and another of how they want to see Baghanis in the future.  Many of the kids said they saw Baghanis as a small town, but wanted to see it as a big city. Others drew future Baghanis as a town with more modern technology.  Of all these drawings, one caught our eye the most.

Unger Narek, who is fifteen years old, handed us his paper just like everyone else and walked back to his table.  On one side of the paper (how he sees Baghanis now), he had drawn the Armenia-Azerbeijan border, with armed men fighting on both sides.  On the other side of the paper (how he wants to see Baghanis in the future), he again drew the Armenia-Azerbeijan border.  However, this time, the men in the picture were unarmed and peacefully shaking hands.

Upon seeing it, we became overwhelmed with emotion and needed a moment to collect ourselves outside of the classroom.  It’s unbelievable how this kid has so much to worry about, yet can carry on with his life every day, full of positive energy and dreaming of peace for his homeland.  This was one of the most difficult and emotional, yet humbling moments that either of us experienced at Jampar so far.  We realized how blessed we are that we never have to worry about such life-threatening situations like Narek and his friends do.

Walking into the classrooms each morning, with smiling faces greeting us, one would never know that each day, these children walk home in fear. They fear that at any moment, shots can be fired and any one of their loved ones can lose their life. But even with that instilled fear in them, they are full of faith and they are hopeful; faithful in           their village and country, and hopeful that one day, they too, will live a peaceful, safe life. With a simple drawing of peace between the neighboring countries, so much is learned about their lives.

— Nairi Dulgarian and Aleena Sivazlian

Last week, Arsen walked in to Camp Martuni with a bright blue temporary tattoo on his left hand. I told him I want one, and sure enough, the following day, he walked in with a tattoo for me. The tattoo took four tries to stamp on. The image was a Barbie doll, my favorite childhood toy. It lasted in its full form for three days, and every day it faded more and more.

This temporary tattoo was originally a symbol of friendship between Arsen and me, but it later turned into a symbol of this program and my trip. We are all temporary tattoos that these kids experience for two weeks. Ten days are spent learning from each other and sharing experiences. For two weeks, I am not Diaspora and they are not deghatsi, but we mesh into an awkward in-between. I attempt to speak their dialect, and they make fun of mine. I teach them how to make a lanyard, and they teach me the rock game. The two weeks are magical and nothing short of amazing. EVER. Then we leave… We spend a few weeks exchanging Facebook messages with our favorite kids and then the messages slowly fade, and so do we.

We are temporary tattoos, and although our residue exists for a while, we leave and they stay. They remember how to make lanyards, but can’t continue making them because lanyard strings are not available in Armenia. They remember the songs, until they learn a new one at school. They keep the memory of the epic soccer game, until they have a new memorable soccer game.

But is all we’re doing really temporary? When I leave, will Arsen resume his life prior to camp? As an individual I may be temporary, our games and activities are temporary, but we exist under an ideology and a global organization that continues to facilitate our influence. We are fortunate to be the youth of the Armenian Revolutionary Federation, because our work is not temporary. Our work started in 1890 and will never end as long as the youth of our nation is motivated.

— Arpa Hatzbanian

Say hello to our little friend, Artur. Artur is a 5’0” Karabakhtsi 17-year-old who was assigned to take care of us during our time in Karabakh, and boy, is he a character! At first, we were all a little confused as to why this little runt would follow us around from place to place, but it didn’t take too long for our opinion of him to change.

Last weekend, we had a small getaway to Stepanakert, and of course, Artur came along. During this trip, away from the responsibility of camp and the kids, we saw the silly side of Artur. He has a personality that is very difficult to put into words. His voice inflects in such a way that even if you don’t understand the words he’s saying, you definitely know what he’s thinking. I, Nicole, personally bonded with Artur on a level I didn’t think I could with someone who spoke only pure Karabakhtsi Armenian. We pushed and shoved like siblings, and teased each other like lifelong friends. I, Ani, created an interesting bond with Artur. He is like the little brother I never wanted, who never stops talking, and always asks questions, but I love him with all my heart.

Needless to say, Artur was certainly one of the best blessings that we received in Martuni. Artur, if you’re reading this (translated), thank you for everything you did for us these past two weeks. We love you!

— Nicole Sabbagh and Ani Khachatourian

As a summer baby, I always seem to be away from home on my birthday every year.  Whether I’m with my friends at AYF Camp or with my family on a beach in Hawaii, Glendale is rarely the place I spend my birthday. This year was no different.

On Monday, I had the privilege of celebrating my 20th birthday in Martuni. Since I’m away from home once again, I wasn’t really expecting too much, because we have all been preoccupied with camp activities. A quick song and a small cake would have sufficed. However, instead, I got  an experience I’ll definitely remember for the rest of my life. From the moment we walked through the school gates to begin our day at camp, I was greeted by campers with hugs, kisses, Russian “happy birthday” balloons, flowers, and gifts.  Each gift I received was homemade and unique, and it was clear that each camper put a great amount of thought and effort into it.  The rest of the day, not a second went by that I wasn’t reminded about my birthday. I heard anout a hundred “????????? ??????”s, asked how old I was countless times, and was carried up in a scary moment during a dance party (I still feel bad about pulling Vahe’s and Puzant’s hair, sorry guys).

After an already amazing day at camp, I came home to a birthday party hosted by my group, complete with pasta, garlic bread, two cakes baked by residents of Martuni, and, of course, birthday themed cups and plates. It’s safe to say that I have never felt as special and appreciated as I did that day, nor has my face ever been so red from smiling and blushing.

The love and attention I received on my birthday fully reveals the character of the people of Martuni, as well as the group of participants I came here with.  I have known most of these people, both the residents of Martuni and many of my group members, for only one or two weeks, yet every single one of them went out of their way to make sure that I have a day to remember.  It goes to show how in this short time, we have truly become a family and created a bond unlike any other.  It really was the best birthday ever, and I’m looking forward to creating more memories like this throughout the rest of this life-changing trip.

–Nairi Dulgarian