Completing My Service

 “You see if you come to this country you must understand that here it is the 19^th Century. These people, our people, have been left there by a combination of events.  The still have the strength for fighting and building.  The have a passion to clarify and create.  They are willing to sacrifice. Here, we are in our fathers’ time.”

Although these lines came from a story about a Jewish soldier, they capture my experience of living in Armenia.  You can feel the imprint of the past, the spirit of the ancestors in all aspects of everyday life.  The first time I went into a grade school I expected to see a photo of a sports hero, like the middleweight boxer Arthur Abraham, or one of Djivan Gasparyan, the world famous duduk player.  Instead the walls were filled with photos of 19^th century Armenian soldiers.   Even though there are no current wars, the role of the soldier is still highly regarded in the culture.  The enlistment of young men for the army is still mandatory and their arrival at the town square once a month is always an event of great social significance.  In fact, weddings seem to be the social event that exceeds the neighborhood party sending their boys off to the army.  The eyes of the mothers may be filled with sadness and doubt but the fathers are filled with pride as their sons begin their rite of passage into manhood.  For a female in Armenia, it is marriage.  An unmarried 30 year old is still called a “girl” but a married teenager is given the status of  “woman.”

Looking at the past century of Armenia’s history, it is not hard to understand why the people cling so strongly to the traditions of their past.  Wars with their neighbors have taken many of their ancestors and much of their land, not to mention the collapse of the country’s economy just 20 years ago with the fall of the Soviet Union.  You see families over the weekends walking to the war memorials and fountains and can feel they are paying tribute to their history.  Similarly, many homes have a painting of Mount Ararat which is now on Turkey’s side of the border.  In many ways it symbolizes the soul of the Armenian culture where these longings and memories of the past are in fact stronger than the present realities. These traditions and beliefs obviously give strength to the Armenian identity, but it also tends to fix their vision on the past.  And while most citizens are looking at the past, the government is creating a version of the future that has little to do with the democratic process.  The past decades of a Socialist System has lulled many to sleep as to the importance of shaping their own society.  

While the village life continues to follow 19^th century values and traditions, the capital of Yerevan is desperately trying to become a hub of   21^st century life.  But I am not sure if this experiment is very successful.  For these new offices and apartments being constructed are done at the expense of the city’s historical architecture.  It has little of the character of the villages.  Even the residents of Yerevan seem to be trying too hard at this modern “makeover” with their fashions and vehicles. Part of this disparity can be attributed to the huge divide in Armenia’s economy, where a very small minority of Oligarch families controls most of the wealth.  But it also seems a residual of the earlier Soviet life where appearances were passed off for realities. 

So what happens in the present while the 19^th and 21^st  centuries movies are playing in different regions in Armenia?  Just what you would expect: the women of Armenia are carrying the families and the country forward.  While the men of the country continue to smoke their cigarettes in the town squares, give 10 minute toasts at the celebrations and argue about politics, the women continue to raise the children, cook the meals and clean up after all the celebrations.  This old-fashioned division of labor is obviously difficult for many of our Volunteers to watch.

I could not help but be reminded of a poem we studied in my Sophomore English class back home.  I think most of the women in Armenia could relate to the experience written by a famous African poet, Gwendolyn Brooks.

Kitchenette Building

We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan,

Grayed in, and gray. “Dream” makes a giddy sound, not strong

Like “rent,” “feeding a wife,” “satisfying a man.”

 

But could a dream send up through onion fumes

Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes

And yesterday’s garbage ripening in the hall,

Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms

 

Even if we were willing to let it in,

Had time to warm it, keep it very clean,

Anticipate a message, let it begin?

 

We wonder. But not well! Not for a minute!

Since Number Five is out of the bathroom now,

We think of lukewarm water, hope to get in it.

 

The sad irony is that the females of the country are the ones who demonstrate more aptitude in the classroom.  Towards the end of middle school age, the boys seem to have slid to the back of the classroom with their buddies as the girls compete for academic achievement.  This will continue until their college life is completed when young women must deal with the limited career paths open to them.  Many of the ambitious young women I have met are resisting the family pressure to marry, realizing they will be trapped with domestic chores.  It is much more difficult for a young woman to find a man with an open-mind than for the men to find a good wife. Some will have to make the difficult choice to stay in the country they love so dearly or create a more fulfilling life for themselves abroad.  This and the continual corruption in hiring practices will continue to fuel Armenia's ongoing problem with migration.

As I have observed these struggles over the past two years, I cannot help but be inspired by the determination of many of its people.  Seeing many of the older woman sweeping the streets and cleaning the buildings, I can only admire their resolve to  "keep on keeping on."  While I have never achieved much competence in the language, I will still carry back home with me a connection with many new friends.  As the Armenian proverb says: From heart to heart, there is a path.

In conclusion, I just want to thank all of you who took the time to write back.  Your support carried me through many trying times.