Our Home away from Home

Vrej Haroutunian came to pick me up from the Zvartnots airport a day too soon. Vache Tomassian waited at the airport for four hours until he saw my face. My poor leaders. It was a troublesome journey getting to Armenia and it seemed like all these obstacles in the way didnt want me seeing Armenia for the very first time. But I got my way and had the most amazing summer ever. As the taxi driver took us to our hostel, I was that character in the movies that sticks her head out the window to have a good look at everything and be completely astonished by her new surroundings.

Armenia did so much more to me than I can ever imagine. Their hospitality and their ease of being genuinely happy with simplicity because they have imperishable hope is really something else. No matter where we went, whether it was Gyumri, Shushi, or Yerevan, every deghatsi made us feel like we had a home there. Digin Lilig (our host mom in Gyumri) would make us tea and coffee every morning as we would get ready for jampar. She knew how much I loved her tea that on the very last day, she gave me all she had left of it to bring home. In Shushi, our host dad Saro, who always wanted me to help him perfect his already fluent English, was always so ambitious and you could see the glowing brightness in his eyes. When I was thanking him for letting the group stay at his home, he cut me off and said, This is our home now, not my home. In Yerevan, we took a cab to TUMO, where we were going to see Serj Tankian in concert, and when we got there we asked the driver how much we owe him and his response was, nothing. Khachig Joukhajian tried giving him the money three times and he refused to take it because he said, you are Armenians. Last but not least, on our last day in Yerevan, we went to Yeraploor, which is the cemetery of all the freedom fighters. While we waited for our taxis, we talked to one of the security guards there. During our conversation, his phone rang. The call was from his wife whom he hasnt seen in eight days  and instead of excusing himself from the circle to go tell his wife he misses her, he picks up the phone and says, Im talking to our diaspora, we’ll talk later.

Aside from all these people, what truly touched our hearts were the kids we got to work and play with. They were satisfied with so little and put their families cares and needs before their own. After every two weeks, saying goodbye to them felt like the hardest thing to do. Each and every one of the kids we had the privilege of meeting and spending such little time with, has a little piece of each and every one of our hearts. The attachment and memories they left us with this summer makes all of us want to go back to our homeland every year, and even live there if and once we get the opportunity to.

Meghry Achekian