Sometimes, habits cannot be broken.
After a Saturday night of hard drinking, shameless dancing, and getting the hook from Relax as a DJ, it was only appropriate that the next morning I headed to church with a hangover. This trip, however, was one for the ages.
The ten of us piled into two Niva�s including at about 9am and headed out to the Lori region of Armenia about a 40 minutes from downtown Vanazor. The drive is a picturesque one that takes you through Spitak as well as countless other villages and town. As one leaves Yerevan, there is a sense of relief getting out of the semi-congested city while taking in some fresh air. The Sunday (5/27/01) we took the trip was sunny and because of the recent rain, the scenery was green as can be.
No road trip taken in Armenia can be complete without visiting a rest-stop. The particular rest-stop we decided to park ourselves for a half an hour was a classic. Rabiz music blasted from a boom box greeting us while the kebabs were promptly ordered and consumed at 10:30am. Armenian string cheese with some greens wrapped up in some lavash was the other alternative for us. This rest stop was cool. It featured a UFO prop that could be used as a place to gather about 6 to 8 people to eat or drink in case of bad weather or some other urge. There was also an animal that was half dog- half fox roaming around seeming friendly enough.
After our half hour rest, we jumped back into our 4x4�s and proceeded toward Vanazor. Driving through Spitak, I was moved by the resiliency and determination of the residents of this once devastated city. The overall feel of the city seemed upbeat with its aluminum church as the major landmark there. The temporary housing structures called �domeegs� put up by the Swiss, Italians and other European countries were also interesting to note. As you may recall, Spitak was one of the cities leveled by Armenia�s massive earthquake in the late 1980�s. As we approached Vanazor, my thoughts were distracted by the lingering presense of the ugly old Soviet factories that seemed so out of place in an otherwise breathtaking part of the country. The former Kirovakan, also hurt by the famous earthquake, is Armenia�s third largest city. It is also home of Gor Mkhitarian, a budding young musician and one of the people in our group that day. Gor�s presense was key as he able to play tour guide to a bunch of diasporans eager to learn more about his hometown.
The 40-minute ride from downtown Vanazor to Kobayr was breathtaking. Lush green colors with a sprinkling of red poppies and other assorted flowers adorned the countryside. Steep cliffs overlooking valleys commanded our attention as the cameras were all out taking pictures during the ride. Many of us tossed out ideas of owning homes in the region someday. From there, the usual daydreaming occurred out loud as some of us explored the possibility of owning land in the area and developing it, etc. The ideas were not far fetched considering that most of the ten people on the trip had made the commitment to move to Armenia. Hey, the hard part was over!
The twisting and winding roads lead us just north of the town of Tumanian. We stopped and parked near a tiny elevated train station right next to the train tracks. The climb to Kobayr would be no more than 15 minutes from where we parked. The few villagers we encountered along the way up to Kobayr were friendly and more than happy to encourage us to see the sights. One of the highlights of our climb up was the encounter we had with an elderly couple sawing wood at the base of the trail. As the ten of us were gathering our Kilikia Beer, Khorvads, Jermuk, two guitars and other necessary provisions, we noticed the couple in question. When we saw the male half of the duo in the middle of sawing a massive piece of wood, we all jumped at the chance to help the old man with his task. Feeling like the good Samaritans that we all were, there was the customary �Let me help you� mode that ensued. The old man and his wife were pleasantly overwhelmed by the presense of a group of so many diasporan Armenians and engaged us in a conversation about the area, the church, and his age. Green Day (Armen) became the designated person to help out sawing the wood. The old man tried to warn Green Day that this business of sawing wood could be tricky. After a few clean strokes of the saw, Green Day soon encountered trouble moving the saw. The old man laughed a bit, took the saw and just mauled the piece of wood with a flawless wood-sawing technique. We all were kind of stunned at the strength of this 70-YEAR-OLD MAN! We were all kind of stunned and figured he could handle the rest of his task. We offered him 500 drams to watch our car at which point he protested and declined our offer. In general, it could be said that the villagers of Armenia had a simple, dignified, and noble way about them.
The climb up to Kobayr was steep and challenging. The hike started off with a series of concrete steps that actually passed more than a few private residences. The homes were basically little more than shacks that were thoughtfully put together from odd pieces of wood, aluminum, and plastic with some large pieces of stone thrown in for good measure. If these homes were located in any big city, they would be modern architectural masterpieces. The residents peeked outside of the wooden fences that separated their property from the trail. As we huffed and puffed up the trail, the pavement turned into dirt and the heavy climbing began. While no one took a tumble, our limits were tested on more than one occasion. As we finally reached the top, we looked down and across the valley down into the village from which we drove up and climbed. We all gasped in awe as we overlooked greenery, a gorgeous river, and churches with a few eagles hovering over us. More than one of our group members stated that the tiny hamlet of Kobayr and its churches were one of the most beautiful overlooked sights in Armenia. For a detailed background on the Kobayr Monastery, pgs 46 and 47 of Kiesling and Kojian�s Rediscovering Armenia should do the trick. In short, the site features the beautifully frescoed remains of the Katoghike Church, built in 1171. There are three other smaller churches that are part of the Monastery.
Our group relaxed out by the main church after which we immediately went to work by preparing Khorovads. Both Ashod and Hratch prepared the meats and vegetables by putting them on skewers. The rest of us gathered wood and started the fire. The Khorovads experience in Armenia is almost ceremonial in its approach. Bragging rights are to be had as to who can produce the best Khorovads (kebabs). While our Khorovads specialists (Hratch and Ashod) prepared the meat and put them in the fire, the rest of us cracked open some Kilikia beer and listened to Gor Mkhitarian give an impromptu performance consisting of him and his guitar. His mix of traditional and original Armenian songs captivated us as we admired the simplicity of the setting and the moment. After Gor�s set, a few others took turns playing guitar as the chessboard was finally unveiled. �Grandmaster� Aram took turns eliminating his opponents without mercy.
Finally, the food was ready and ten hungry men took turns taking the Khorovads, putting it in the fresh lavash and throwing in some onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, and greens into the mix. The perfect meal. We washed down the meal with a combination of Lemon Fanta, Coke, beer, and Jermuk.
Of the ten member of the group, two were from Armenia, one was from Egypt, and the other seven of us were from America. I was startled to realize that of the eight diasporans in the group, I was the only one not living there. The others had made the move to Armenia giving up whatever lives they had in their native countries. From the look on all of their faces, none of them seemed to miss their former residence, instead, embracing their new country. Or, for some, a return home.
After a Saturday night of hard drinking, shameless dancing, and getting the hook from Relax as a DJ, it was only appropriate that the next morning I headed to church with a hangover. This trip, however, was one for the ages.
The ten of us piled into two Niva�s including at about 9am and headed out to the Lori region of Armenia about a 40 minutes from downtown Vanazor. The drive is a picturesque one that takes you through Spitak as well as countless other villages and town. As one leaves Yerevan, there is a sense of relief getting out of the semi-congested city while taking in some fresh air. The Sunday (5/27/01) we took the trip was sunny and because of the recent rain, the scenery was green as can be.
No road trip taken in Armenia can be complete without visiting a rest-stop. The particular rest-stop we decided to park ourselves for a half an hour was a classic. Rabiz music blasted from a boom box greeting us while the kebabs were promptly ordered and consumed at 10:30am. Armenian string cheese with some greens wrapped up in some lavash was the other alternative for us. This rest stop was cool. It featured a UFO prop that could be used as a place to gather about 6 to 8 people to eat or drink in case of bad weather or some other urge. There was also an animal that was half dog- half fox roaming around seeming friendly enough.
After our half hour rest, we jumped back into our 4x4�s and proceeded toward Vanazor. Driving through Spitak, I was moved by the resiliency and determination of the residents of this once devastated city. The overall feel of the city seemed upbeat with its aluminum church as the major landmark there. The temporary housing structures called �domeegs� put up by the Swiss, Italians and other European countries were also interesting to note. As you may recall, Spitak was one of the cities leveled by Armenia�s massive earthquake in the late 1980�s. As we approached Vanazor, my thoughts were distracted by the lingering presense of the ugly old Soviet factories that seemed so out of place in an otherwise breathtaking part of the country. The former Kirovakan, also hurt by the famous earthquake, is Armenia�s third largest city. It is also home of Gor Mkhitarian, a budding young musician and one of the people in our group that day. Gor�s presense was key as he able to play tour guide to a bunch of diasporans eager to learn more about his hometown.
The 40-minute ride from downtown Vanazor to Kobayr was breathtaking. Lush green colors with a sprinkling of red poppies and other assorted flowers adorned the countryside. Steep cliffs overlooking valleys commanded our attention as the cameras were all out taking pictures during the ride. Many of us tossed out ideas of owning homes in the region someday. From there, the usual daydreaming occurred out loud as some of us explored the possibility of owning land in the area and developing it, etc. The ideas were not far fetched considering that most of the ten people on the trip had made the commitment to move to Armenia. Hey, the hard part was over!
The twisting and winding roads lead us just north of the town of Tumanian. We stopped and parked near a tiny elevated train station right next to the train tracks. The climb to Kobayr would be no more than 15 minutes from where we parked. The few villagers we encountered along the way up to Kobayr were friendly and more than happy to encourage us to see the sights. One of the highlights of our climb up was the encounter we had with an elderly couple sawing wood at the base of the trail. As the ten of us were gathering our Kilikia Beer, Khorvads, Jermuk, two guitars and other necessary provisions, we noticed the couple in question. When we saw the male half of the duo in the middle of sawing a massive piece of wood, we all jumped at the chance to help the old man with his task. Feeling like the good Samaritans that we all were, there was the customary �Let me help you� mode that ensued. The old man and his wife were pleasantly overwhelmed by the presense of a group of so many diasporan Armenians and engaged us in a conversation about the area, the church, and his age. Green Day (Armen) became the designated person to help out sawing the wood. The old man tried to warn Green Day that this business of sawing wood could be tricky. After a few clean strokes of the saw, Green Day soon encountered trouble moving the saw. The old man laughed a bit, took the saw and just mauled the piece of wood with a flawless wood-sawing technique. We all were kind of stunned at the strength of this 70-YEAR-OLD MAN! We were all kind of stunned and figured he could handle the rest of his task. We offered him 500 drams to watch our car at which point he protested and declined our offer. In general, it could be said that the villagers of Armenia had a simple, dignified, and noble way about them.
The climb up to Kobayr was steep and challenging. The hike started off with a series of concrete steps that actually passed more than a few private residences. The homes were basically little more than shacks that were thoughtfully put together from odd pieces of wood, aluminum, and plastic with some large pieces of stone thrown in for good measure. If these homes were located in any big city, they would be modern architectural masterpieces. The residents peeked outside of the wooden fences that separated their property from the trail. As we huffed and puffed up the trail, the pavement turned into dirt and the heavy climbing began. While no one took a tumble, our limits were tested on more than one occasion. As we finally reached the top, we looked down and across the valley down into the village from which we drove up and climbed. We all gasped in awe as we overlooked greenery, a gorgeous river, and churches with a few eagles hovering over us. More than one of our group members stated that the tiny hamlet of Kobayr and its churches were one of the most beautiful overlooked sights in Armenia. For a detailed background on the Kobayr Monastery, pgs 46 and 47 of Kiesling and Kojian�s Rediscovering Armenia should do the trick. In short, the site features the beautifully frescoed remains of the Katoghike Church, built in 1171. There are three other smaller churches that are part of the Monastery.
Our group relaxed out by the main church after which we immediately went to work by preparing Khorovads. Both Ashod and Hratch prepared the meats and vegetables by putting them on skewers. The rest of us gathered wood and started the fire. The Khorovads experience in Armenia is almost ceremonial in its approach. Bragging rights are to be had as to who can produce the best Khorovads (kebabs). While our Khorovads specialists (Hratch and Ashod) prepared the meat and put them in the fire, the rest of us cracked open some Kilikia beer and listened to Gor Mkhitarian give an impromptu performance consisting of him and his guitar. His mix of traditional and original Armenian songs captivated us as we admired the simplicity of the setting and the moment. After Gor�s set, a few others took turns playing guitar as the chessboard was finally unveiled. �Grandmaster� Aram took turns eliminating his opponents without mercy.
Finally, the food was ready and ten hungry men took turns taking the Khorovads, putting it in the fresh lavash and throwing in some onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, and greens into the mix. The perfect meal. We washed down the meal with a combination of Lemon Fanta, Coke, beer, and Jermuk.
Of the ten member of the group, two were from Armenia, one was from Egypt, and the other seven of us were from America. I was startled to realize that of the eight diasporans in the group, I was the only one not living there. The others had made the move to Armenia giving up whatever lives they had in their native countries. From the look on all of their faces, none of them seemed to miss their former residence, instead, embracing their new country. Or, for some, a return home.
posted by ArmeniaLog at 7:54 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home