Day 36 of #war

Summer 1999, NK

So much happened these past days. We received the news and watched in horror the phosphoric bombs falling from the sky on the majestic mountains and forests of Artsakh. Those mountains were always a safe haven for the population, the peaceful villagers in the region.

I remember Abel from Karin Dag(under the rock), in that small but courageous Armenian village located just under Shushi. I used to volunteer there, renovating the tiny old church in the center of the village with many volunteers of Land and Culture, from around the world. It was 1999, and after hard working days, we used to gather outside the village school where we slept, made a bonfire and sat for long hours together with the villagers listening to their stories of war, loss, victory and resistance. Since there was no internet at that time and almost no phones, that was our only entertainment on those hot summer days.

Abel, a young man born and raised in that village, which we nicknamed Hercules for his strong arms and ability to transport heavy rocks, was silent most of the time. He was just a kid during the war of the 90s, he didn’t participate much to the discussion and with a sad gaze would sit beside us, listening quietly. Then one day, some of us started asking him about his life during that time. After a certain time, he started telling us his story, while holding back his tears…He was a just a child, and together with his siblings living an innocent life in that village. Then when it all started, their homes were bombarded by Azerbaijanis. Among the fire, the smoke and destruction, mothers took their children and ran fast up in the mountains for safety… everyone knew that would be their only safety. Many were saved…the men stayed behind defending their village. Abel’s mom was running up the hill, and when the bombing started targeting the civilians, she asked the kids to lie low and then she covered them with her body to keep them safe…and that is how she died, she was hit by a piece of the shelling and killed on the spot, while the kids stayed alive under her heavy body…heavy memories carried by many kids in those times.

Karin Dag tells many stories of survival and death…in almost each home you visit in that village there is a corner allocated to the lost ones, a father, an uncle, a son, a brother…some kind of a shrine with candles, flowers, photos…keeping the memories alive. More will be added after this war…more will be added everywhere after this war. And life one day will go on, despite our efforts to stop it.

Yesterday, I tried to process the information that jihadists and Syrian mercenaries hired by Turkey to fight for Azerbaijan against Armenians in Nagorno-Karabakh were paid 2000 $ per month and an additional 100 $ for each beheading.

Yes…you heard it well…beheading. Erdogan and Aliyev are sending terrorists to savagely kill people in the 21st century. Now process that for a minute or two, then ask yourself, why is this happening right now, at this moment?

Then there are people known in their community like the press secretary of the Qarabag football club of Azerbaijan writing on his wall “we need to kill all Armenians, children, women, elderly, without distinction…”

There are also the planned organized Turkish mobs roaming the streets of France 100s of them at once with the grey wolf genocidal sign, looking for Armenians to beat up…in those communities where most survivors settled fleeing the 1915 Armenian Genocide.

I am trying to see possibilities of dialogue and peace among all this hate...I am failing, we are all failing...

Several human rights defenders and advocates for peace around the world and most importantly those who used to be active in our region…seem to not notice these events…never heard of hate crimes, state sponsored Armenophobia…denial of Genocide…never. They never heard about the Sumgait massacres which started the first war, when Armenians were killed under Azerbaijani rule…they never heard of Safarov, the terrorist, the murderer greeted like a hero in his hometown…Or it doesn’t suit them to be vocal right now…many things are at stake right now and Armenian lives are not one of them it seems…Yet some of them are busy sharing one or two tiny reports of Human Rights Watch, retweeting at most, if pressed by time... but only if it mentions both sides and get done with the whole issue…feel good, thinking they did their part…ignoring all the rest. Ignoring the scope of the conflict, ignoring the fact of an obvious larger aggressor, also known as a dictator in his country, who started a war in a middle of global pandemic against a new developing democracy(whose main crime is that there is no oil found on their lands to bribe anyone)…ignoring the constant refilling of sophisticated weapons coming from Israel to Baku…the hired mercenaries from Syria, the genocidal speeches of Erdogan supporting his brother Aliyev…yes, those are just not as important it seems…

Then of course there is Belarus…and the elections in Georgia and many other more important things to talk about in the region than just a tiny population of 150 000 supported by a 3 million fighting for survival against two well-known dictators with more than 90 million population, oil money, caviar for the most refined foreign politicians, or international media, supported by the arm industry of Israel, Turkey and many others combined.

Sure, nothing to say there, except the two reports and maybe the “occupation” discourse…but occupying what? Who? How can the indigenous Armenian population of Artsakh who has been discriminated and oppressed historically on their lands under Azerbaijanis, can be safe under this Azerbaijani rule, bloodthirsty, not only killing soldiers but beheading them, torturing, spreading hate speech on governmental level… who can guarantee their safety? surely not the Europeans or the Americans or any other power right now, they can’t even force Aliyev to a ceasefire, let alone something else… it seems that Armenians can rely only on themselves, their own people...every Armenian child has heard this by his/her grand-parents and tried all his/her life to prove it wrong, just to be met with more disappointment at the end, like these days.

And for all those rejoicing, including so-called peacebuilders from the other side, with each news, true or fake, of a territory taken…let me ask you, is it worth it? All the blood? The killings, was it this way how you imagined it?

Life continues for many of you out there. There was Halloween…soon, Christmas and New year will be here and many more events to plan and live. But history shows us that wars don’t stop at the borders where conflict is happening…

Yes, there are very serious violations happening in Belarus right now…and I am DEEPLY concerned and urging both parties to find a peaceful solution, so more civilians and protesters don’t suffer, get killed or attacked on the streets…yes, urging everyone to stop! It's Ridiculous right? what I am saying? …and yes, you are right! it is extremely ridiculous and unacceptable to say the least.

You can never ask victims to make peace with the aggressors, you cannot ask them to stop defending their lives and rights in the middle of a survivor war when the aggressor is even more ready to kill and annihilate. It is the aggressor that you need to address first, yes that one exactly... the one who decided to launch this large scale war in the middle of a global pandemic. Maybe you forgot about that slight detail...

And of course some things help in the middle of all the chaos I am living right now…private messages from friends, acknowledging what is happening and offering support, diaspora Armenians constantly sending aid, money, medicines, doctors to help, and global activists and intellectuals sending words of solidarity across the oceans to the forgotten tiny population…

“From one world historical people, we in the midst of the American Empire, I raise my voice, one voice, but my voice, in deep solidarity to another world historical people, to a people who have been traumatized for over 2000 years... Solidarity is not abstract, it’s blood-soaked, it is tear-soaked. And we refuse to allow the lies, and the crimes against the Armenian brothers and sisters to have the last word.

Don’t get discouraged,

Don’t let anything dampen your fire…it’s a sacred fire that burns inside of you…

And it burns in such a way that you’ll tell the truth, you’ll seek justice, not in the spirit of self-righteousness, but in spirit of humility tied to a moral tenacity” — Dr. Cornel West, 2020

My War diaries - October #ArtsakhStrong

On September 27, 2020 Azerbaijan has declared war on the civil population of Artsakh in the middle of a global pandemic. Since then,  the territory of Nagorno-Karabakh has been bombarded heavily, cities, hospitals, kindergartens, schools and civilian residences. Thousands are being killed including soldiers and civilians, more than 60 000 have been displaced from their homes, mostly women, children and elderly...

I kept a diary of these days, while I was engaged like many of us in Yerevan on providing humanitarian aid to the refugees and those affected by the conflict. 

I am reposting here my previous posts, so I remember...

October 1 - Day 5 of war: the worst part these days is to wake up to the suffocating uncertainty and fear each morning.

After managing a few hours of sleep, send a message to loved ones in NK, hold your breath and wait with anxiety for them to respond that they are ok.

Then quickly and hysterically go over the news feed or whatever info available(not much) to try figure out how worse the situation became in the few hours that you passed out, hoping that damages are scarce, not more than what your heart can handle.

Then try to breathe...

October 3 - Day 7 of war. I don’t know what to feel anymore, fear? Panic? Sadness? Anger? This morning I am thinking about the aftermath of all this. If we stay alive and sane, How are we going once more to deal with all the consequences that war leaves behind, losses, destruction, dismantled infrastructures, destroyed homes, orphaned children, widowed women, the hate, broken bodies, broken souls...

The already extremely sad entrance walls of schools will be filled once more of new fresh photos of fathers, uncles and brothers of kids, who were killed these days. And children will walk in their classrooms under the heavy gazes of these portraits remembering each and every day those who are no more with us.

those among us who survive this, will spend another lifetime cleaning up after all the mess that war will leave behind, pick up the pieces, try to restore and heal the souls... reconstructing the roads and houses would be the easiest part, it’s the rest that I am afraid of.

Many of you are writing asking how to help. If I don’t answer back, it is because honestly I don’t know how...but it helps a lot that you are asking and offering support.

Talk about what’s happening here among your circles. Donate to

Hayastan All Armenian Fund Հայաստան համահայկական հիմնադրամ

to ensure the humanitarian aid. Check on your friends, relatives here, talk to them if you can.

Yesterday, I was practicing with my kids what to do during an emergency air raid. It is so sad to see how children grow up so fast in these situations.

I wish I could predict the end of this war in the coffee cup, i wish it was as easy as that, I wish I had all the answers and appease everyone...but there is so little I can do and feeling so empty right now.

Lake Sevan, day 1: Wishup Shore

I was avoiding Sevan lake for the past couple of years. The major part of the area had become over the years a barbecue joint with little space left in nature to enjoy swimming and rest on the shore. An overflow of poorly designed restaurants with a bad taste of music had taken over most of the touristic parts.
Being born near the mediterranean and now living in a land-locked country for the past 13 years surrounded mainly by mountains, i often feel the urge to be near the sea. So a trip to lake Sevan remains the only alternative for the moment.

Last year, my 10 year-old son attended a summer Waldorf camp at the Wishup shore, near Shorja (lake Sevan) and when i visited him, I immediately fell in love with the place.  It was nothing like the lake Sevan I knew. It was far away from all touristic areas, isolated, with a magnificent shore and view of the lake. A family from the Waldorf School was running the place. There was a nice small cafe/bar on the shore, with excellent music and cute wooden sitting areas. The Camp had the options of sleeping in tents or cabins. During the 10-day summer Waldorf camp, many activities were offered and kids had a blast experiencing canoeing, building their own raft, sleeping in a tent, making fire, learning knots, etc.

We decided to come back and stay with the whole family for 2 nights. We rented one of the cabins near the shore.
The first day was excellent! we spent the afternoon swimming in the lake, walking around, playing with sand. The older kids enjoyed canoeing. We ended the day with a nice supper of fresh fish from the lake served at the bar on the shore and relaxing under an amazing sky full of stars.
This place is unique and amazing both for kids and adults. The best way of experiencing lake Sevan!

Lake Sevan, day 1: Wishup Shore

I was avoiding Sevan lake for the past couple of years. The major part of the area had become over the years a barbecue joint with little space left in nature to enjoy swimming and rest on the shore. An overflow of poorly designed restaurants with a bad taste of music had taken over most of the touristic parts.
Being born near the mediterranean and now living in a land-locked country for the past 13 years surrounded mainly by mountains, i often feel the urge to be near the sea. So a trip to lake Sevan remains the only alternative for the moment.

Ayrudzi

Summer is really hot in Yerevan!

It is quite challenging to find good summer camps for teenagers and older kids in Armenia. There is a good number of summer schools, camps for 6-11 year-olds, even play groups for 4-6 year-olds but if you are looking for summer activities for 11+ year-old kids and teenagers, your options are limited.
Ayrudzi is one of those few places where older kids have the opportunity to be away from the city heat and rest in the serenity of nature surrounded by amazing horses and friendly dogs.
The camp is situated in Ashtarak and is founded by a phenomenal person, known as "Keri Gagik". He is a passionate of anything related to nature, animals and more specifically horses. He has been teaching kids for the past several decades how to understand, care for and love horses. Kids respect him and listen carefully to his valuable lessons about nature and life. He is also a great storyteller and knows how to help children to face their fears of animals. A couple of years ago, he helped my second daughter to get over her fear of dogs. It took him a day and she was already happily integrated in the camp life and playing with the dogs.

The Ayrudzi Club is open throughout the year on specific days and offers horseback-riding lessons to kids and adults. Keri Gagik teaches also children with disabilities to ride and appreciate being close with horses.
In the summer, the Club is open as a camp. Kids can stay in small cabins/tohmiks that can accommodate up to 4 at a time. There is a central toilet and bathroom operated where water is heated with solar system. Healthy food is provided during the day, but kids can also bring their own snacks if they want. During the day, they organize games, hiking trips, workshops, cleaning, free time and swimming. But the most fun parts are being together among friends, listening to Keri Gagik's legendary stories and singing and gathering around the camp fires.
My kids have being going there over 4 years, they have a special relationship with the owners, the horses and the other kids who regularly attend the camp. It has become an important part of their childhood and life adventures. Every time i pick them up after a long stay, i see how much they are re-energized, happy and full of stories to tell.
Keri Gagik and his family have been able to create a small haven for kids among the horses, away from the hectic life of the city, away from TV and electronics, closer to nature and simple pleasures of life.

Ayrudzi

Summer is really hot in Yerevan!

It is quite challenging to find good summer camps for teenagers and older kids in Armenia. There is a good number of summer schools, camps for 6-11 year-olds, even play groups for 4-6 year-olds but if you are looking for summer activities for 11+ year-old kids and teenagers, your options are limited.
Ayrudzi is one of those few places where older kids have the opportunity to be away from the city heat and rest in the serenity of nature surrounded by amazing horses and friendly dogs.
The camp is situated in Ashtarak and is founded by a phenomenal person, known as "Keri Gagik". He is a passionate of anything related to nature, animals and more specifically horses. He has been teaching kids for the past several decades how to understand, care for and love horses. Kids respect him and listen carefully to his valuable lessons about nature and life. He is also a great storyteller and knows how to help children to face their fears of animals. A couple of years ago, he helped my second daughter to get over her fear of dogs. It took him a day and she was already happily integrated in the camp life and playing with the dogs.

Priorities and New Realities

It’s been almost a year since my last blog. Life is becoming more and more hectic in Armenia. I remember when we first arrived here to settle, almost 12 years ago; scarce cars on the streets, few supermarkets, less restaurants, more street sellers, more historical buildings… less sarcasm, more belief in the future. Today, so many cars everywhere, it is almost impossible sometimes to beat the traffic. Politically and socio-economically things are not getting better; people are leaving the country in search of a better life. Those who stay, try different ways to survive or counter the harsh reality of the lack of democracy, absence of rule of law and high corruption.

Some of us will die on this land

I know it’s depressing to talk about death, loss and bereavement but some recent events made me think more and more about this topic.

Sose and Allen

A couple of months ago, the sudden death of a young repat couple, Sosé and Allen shook the whole repat community in Armenia. The funny thing is that for most of us who move to Armenia, we mostly think of how to make it here, how to find a job, build a home, find our place. We rarely reflect on how we will die here on this land. I know that this can be a depressing topic for some but I wanted to share it anyways, since it’s been haunting me for the past months. I think being a mom of four kids is adding also on the stress of thinking on these issues.

You can climb Ararat 

A couple of years ago, when Levon, a middle-aged repat passed away alone of a heart attack in his apartment while his family was in the US, I started thinking of different scenarios of what I would do if I was faced with such a tragedy. How do you deal with these issues in a new country?  How do you think and keep sane when you don’t have immediate family close by? One day, I asked a repat friend where he wanted to get buried if he died in Armenia? He looked at me shocked and started panicking. First he said “here, on this land”, then he wasn’t so sure. He thought of his family there. He felt that he belonged there as well. Then, of course he changed the topic. Who wants to talk about death when you came on this land to live with so many hopes and plans, right?

Each culture has its own way of expressing and dealing with grief and mourning. Armenia, in this area, is still very much influenced by former Soviet Union customs and traditions: meaning every single detail is dealt in the family not in funeral homes (as we know it in the west).

Khnko Aper Children's Library

"We are homesick most for the places we have never known." - C. McCullers

It was too cold today to go skating at the open air skating ring near the opera, so we decided to spend some time at our favourite children’s library, Khnko Aper. Vayk, my son was very excited, he likes the big format books in French and the enormous chandelier hanging in the middle of the high ceiling between the staircase. The old lady who has been working at the reception since the soviet times shows him how the lights on that magical chandelier are turned on to gradually illuminate the whole floors.

La Maison Verte - Green House

When I moved to Armenia in 2003,  Amassia, my oldest daughter was 3 at that time and Varanta, my second, almost one.

It was quite challenging in the beginning to adapt to the new country with 2 babies and no family support. While my husband was trying to figure out things at his new workplace, I was exploring the city, searching for services, places, interesting spots for my kids to grow and develop.

It was during one of those random exploration days that we found ourselves by chance in front of this old soviet building at the end of Abovyan street with a sign that caught my attention immediately : "MAISON VERTE (Green House) for preschool children."

40+

I will be 40 this year, in a couple of months.

I am not usually someone who is concerned with the idea of getting old. I rarely think of myself as soon-to-be 40 year old. But oddly enough, these past weeks I have been thinking a lot about that.

 I was watching my body in the mirror the other day and suddenly it hit me. I was getting old. Like something I have never imagined would happen.

In Armenia, a woman over 40 has 2 options – in general- and I am not talking here about exceptions: 1- becomes a grandmother and devotes her life to her grandchildren, 2- if single and unemployed, she will have lots of difficulties finding her place in this society where being a mother and a wife is the most important status that a woman can achieve. 

Tolerance and Social Activism: Teaching Kids the Basics

How do you create a fair and humane society if you don’t include the children in the process? Who will carry the torch? Who will guarantee its sustainability? How will the next generation learn about social responsibility if we always keep them away from the course of action?

I’ve always believed that raising kids did not only imply ensuring they are well-fed, warmly clothed and get a good educated (school) but also, and most importantly, it’s teaching them how to become responsible human beings; of their person, home, friends, environment, the earth and all living beings around them.

The “boks” or the hospital of angry nurses

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Right after the birth and especially when it is a c-section, you need to spend some time in the intensive care unit that here, we call the “boks” in Russian, for me it sounded like the “box” and looked really like one. 

During my first birthing experience in Armenia at the Erebuni Hospital in 2005, that “boks” was awful. It was a big room with 10-12 beds. Instead of curtains, the windows were painted in brown so the sun doesn’t bother the patients. There was an old soviet era refrigerator in one corner which was making a horrific trembling sound every 5 minutes or so while water was dripping constantly from the faucet beside the door where I had to spend 10 long dreadful hours. When you just had surgery all these noises sound even worse.  To all this, add the moans of women in pain and their pleas for help, morphine, or something to drink. However, I was trying to concentrate on the idea of meeting my baby and trying to forget all the pain in and around me

Birth

The day had come; I was going to experience my 2^nd childbirth in Armenia, this time in another hospital. I had Vayk my 3^rd at Erebuni Hospital. And today I was heading to the republican one.

It was 8 am and the doctor was waiting for me at the entrance. After paying the fees for the room and registering, we took the elevator to the 4^th floor to put everything in our room. Then the doctor came with a half-asleep nurse who explained what I needed to do before the operation. This was my 4^th child and I was here for a scheduled c-section.  The nurse installed the IV and asked me to sit and relax until they finish injecting 2 bags of fluids to prevent dehydration during the operation.

Armenian Pregnancy chronicles #4

It has been a hectic month with the holidays and the many projects going on at the Women’s Center, I became lazy and ended up not blogging at all.

I am now 35 weeks pregnant and starting to feel heavy and exhausted. To keep myself active and healthy I am going to prenatal yoga classes at Shoonch. It is helping me a lot physically and morally, and giving me some quiet time away from home and work.

Just before the session (I arrive early, most of the time) I sit quietly in one corner and wait for the other participants to arrive. It is actually an interesting time, where Armenian pregnant women gather in one space, sit comfortably, caressing their bellies exchanging information, comparing pregnancy symptoms, doctors and mother-in-laws’ unnecessary (and sometimes scary) advices. In Armenia, it is very common that mother-in-laws will take care of everything once the bride is pregnant; choosing the doctor and escorting her to prenatal visits, deciding what she can do and what she can't, what to wear and what not. The husband becomes secondary and a little detached from the whole process.

Armenian Pregnancy chronicles #4

It has been a hectic month with the holidays and the many projects going on at the Women’s Center, I became lazy and ended up not blogging at all.

I am now 35 weeks pregnant and starting to feel heavy and exhausted. To keep myself active and healthy I am going to prenatal yoga classes at Shoonch. It is helping me a lot physically and morally, and giving me some quiet time away from home and work.

Just before the session (I arrive early, most of the time) I sit quietly in one corner and wait for the other participants to arrive. It is actually an interesting time, where Armenian pregnant women gather in one space, sit comfortably, caressing their bellies exchanging information, comparing pregnancy symptoms, doctors and mother-in-laws’ unnecessary (and sometimes scary) advices. In Armenia, it is very common that mother-in-laws will take care of everything once the bride is pregnant; choosing the doctor and escorting her to prenatal visits, deciding what she can do and what she can't, what to wear and what not. The husband becomes secondary and a little detached from the whole process. On the other hand and mostly in the city center, i am seeing more and more couples trying to do this together as much as possible but still the majority thinks that this is a woman's business and most of the time, husbands are kept away. One of my local pregnant friends told me that when you go to the polyclinic, women's consultation department for your monthly prenatal visits, men are not allowed inside, so future fathers should wait outside while women handle this all alone.  It will take some time until things change, i assume. 

Another activity that I am able to do is swimming and I found that Ani hotel has a nice indoor pool. So I am trying to go there once a week.

I am planning to work until the end, I don’t see what I would be able to do if I stay home. There is also a lot going on at the Women’s Center with the Sexual Violence Law and Zaruhi Petrosyan’s case that I don’t want to miss and can’t afford it either since we are understaffed. This is also keeping me busy for the last stretch of the pregnancy when the wait becomes difficult. The only thing that I am limiting is my travels outside the country, and going only to the regions of Armenia to start-up new projects with local women’s NGOs.

Armenian Pregnancy Chronicles #3: Prenatal Care

It is 4 am and I can’t sleep. I was turning and turning in my bed, trying to relax, finding the right position to relieve my sciatic nerve pain, then emptying my mind of all the thoughts of yesterday’s stressful moving experience (we are moving the women’s center to a new location and it seems my present condition is making it harder for me to cope with it. But nothing is helping and it seems that my body, 7 months pregnant now, is preparing for waking up in the middle of the night and adapting to the future baby’s schedule.

Republican Hospital - Birth Center

I went to do my routine tests this week. The Republican hospital where I will be giving birth this time seems trustworthy. Some parts of the building were renovated with the help of USAID and some parts need more work. But overall it is a decent place although it lacks a little bit of a friendly ambiance, colors, nice soothing posters…I will visit soon the operating/delivery facilities and post delivery rooms as well and keep you updated on that.

Armenian Pregnancy Chronicles #2: Women Solidarity!

I am traveling so much during this pregnancy. And I feel that my baby is enjoying it very much, since she/he is not giving me any hard time, sitting quietly in the warmth of my belly. From time to time kicking vigorously to remind me that he/she is there when I get caught up in a heated discussion during my seminars.

I am now in Shushi, just came back from a dynamic meeting at the Women’s Resource Center here. Gohar and I started this branch of the Center 3 years ago with the help of Gayane that I met in Shushi during the summer of 2001, when I was volunteering with Land and Culture organization. Since then, Gayane and I bonded immediately. At that time her children were very young and I used to visit her with my daughter on my back for coffee some homemade sweets and long discussions. She used to tell me about her life in Karabakh; the war, how she met her husband and then her experience as a young mother in a war-torn city. We used to think together of different ways to improve the life of women here and what were some of the important issues they were dealing with.

Women's Resource Center of Shushi

I wouldn’t imagine that 7 years later we would be working together on developing a women’s center in Shushi. So much changed since then.  It was a real challenge to bring together women and create this unique space where they were accepted fully and given the opportunity to voice their concerns and talk endlessly of their dreams and losses for the past years.

During this trip, I realized how much the center has evolved and how important it started to become to all the women using it. Many contributed to this over the years; Briony and Julia provided the space for free, Tamar gave up her life in Paris to spend a couple of months in this harsh town to help the staff organize, Ani taught English and gave hope, Hasmig introduced non-violent communication, Lusya implemented video workshops, Tatevik, Anush, Gayane, Shushan, Lucine, Nina and other volunteers made endless trips back and forth from Yerevan to help with programs and activities. And many more contributed in different ways. Today the center is open 4 days a week, provides many services to the women in Shushi and surrounding areas. It is also a safe haven for those needing a space to talk and share their problems and find solutions for different issues they are faced with.

Active volunteer discussing with guests from Martakert

Tonight 5 young women from Martakert (border region of Kharabagh) came to visit. The Center is trying to outreach to the regions gradually.

It takes lots of effort and dedication to sustain a women’s center in a conflict region. Resources are scarce and motivation is low, we face many challenges. But it seems that something is changing, years ago it was difficult to find any local volunteers, today Nelly and some others come over after their University classes to help and want to do more.

Many times I was close to losing hope that anything will happen in this town. But today I left the meeting with a huge smile on my face. I felt so good to see how warm and energetic this center has become and how much the women are trying to do things with so little resources. 

to know more about the women's resource center in Shushi go here.

LGBT and journalists: a journey through tolerance and mafia game!

Tolerance, a very hard word to digest, specially if you are living in a small nation constantly struggling to keep its identity, to live, survive and exist.

Tolerance was a very hard and critical word to gasp during our weekend seminar in Tsaghkatsor, where 6 journalists and 6 LGBT community members were stuck in one remote place for 3 days to rethink all that ---

During the numerous discussions “hamaseramol”/“arvamol” was constantly defined – one part was blaming the other for writing homophobic articles and inciting hate speech in society, the other part, feeling under attack was criticizing the latter for being so closed, unorganized and not having adequate communication skills with the media and others. The ambiance was tense in the beginning, people were there with all their beliefs, stereotypes and prejudices and we had 2 and half days to work with all that.

But the real change happened at night…

Once the sun was down, nobody cared who was gay, journalist, hotel worker, diasporan, or hayasdantsi. At night something different happened which deconstructed for a moment the whole dynamic of the group. Yes, it was Mafia Time! And in that room gathered players regardless of their background, sexual preferences and social status.  Two days in a row we played the game choking of laughter. And believe me when you spend 2 nights playing mafia with someone, it is very difficult to hate that person or ignore him/her. And a whole new kind of relationship starts, building a strong base for a long lasting tolerance.

The second day, journalists were ready to protect their gay game partners when hotel workers were threatening not to clean the latter’s room or got angry when a bunch of Armenian men were making fun of them and saying homophobic comments.

The last day, journalists teamed with a gay partner and prepared amazing articles and pieces to share with the rest of us, some of them are already published, other will soon. The most important thing is that communication is always possible even when the situation seems impossible.  And change starts with those participants who had the will and the courage to face their deepest fears and challenge their most important beliefs.

You can read some of the articles here:

http://www.radiovan.am/arman_tolerantnost/

http://jenkasblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/blog-post.html?spref=fb 

Armenian Pregnancy Chronicles #1

I can say I am feeling much better.  This pregnancy was a little more stressful in the beginning because of my age.  When you’re over 35, you need to go through the worries of the health of the baby, triple test and the amnio. But the most nerve-racking experience was the wait. Thank god I was occupied with my work and travelling for conferences and meetings to keep my mind off of things.

The experience was even more interesting in Armenia. This is my 4^th pregnancy in general and my 2^nd in Armenia. My mom had almost a nervous breakdown once she heard the news over the phone. For her, one was enough and having more kids was just limiting myself as a woman and bringing hardship on myself. She is not the typical Armenian mom or Grandmother, too independent, she told me from the first day: “I did my share and raised my kids, don’t count on me for babysitting, I want to have fun with my grand-kids but not devote my entire life to them.” I appreciated her sincerity and decided to have 4 of my own and enjoy each one of the experiences. 

So when I found out that I was pregnant, I was happily surprised and thought little about age and problems, until I came back to Armenia after a long vacation in Montreal.  I went to my doctor’s office at the Hanrapetakan Hospital (Republican hosp.), same doctor who delivered my 3^rd and a wonderful one, one of those rare doctors who will not scare you uselessly and will listen to your needs (which is very rare in Armenia).

He advised me to take the triple test and directed me to this new and high tech lab in Gomidas, DIAGEN. They were very professionnaly and I recommend it for any type of blood tests you need to do in Armenia.

After a week I went to pick up the results with my husband and went directly to the doctor, he looked at the numbers and expressed his concerns immediately.  I had a little over the average risk to give birth to a baby with trisomy (down syndrome).  I didn’t know what to think, I was under the shock, what next? That’s the hardest question you could ask yourself in these circumstances. We left the clinic depressed and had to wait another 2-3 weeks to pass an amnio to have the final results. The doctors explained to us the options: either to keep the baby, which in his opinion was a very difficult options, since Armenia unlike Canada doesn’t have the opportunities and services to support parents with children with down syndrome.  The other option was to do an abortion after the amnio results that would take me to almost 4-5 months of pregnancy and would be very hard for me to take.

On the day of the amnio, I was even more stressed, although I was trying to not think about it a lot, trying to relax as much as possible, but I was worried about the intervention and doing it in Armenia. So I went that day, the doctor prepared everything, checked the baby and started. The first 2 attempts were unsuccessful, I was trying to hold my breath, not move, concentrate my mind on other things.

I was feeling the needle entering deep in my womb, but nothing, not a single drop of amniotic fluid was coming out. He tried for the 3^rd and last attempt and finally was able to succeed. I was almost ready to cry from worry; mostly worrying if this was going to harm the fetus or result in a miscarriage. I had to rest for 2-3 days, take it easy a little. So I spend a couple of days at home, in front of TV, writing and reading like crazy all kind of info I could get on the internet.

The wait was horrific and stressful. Then the results came when I was in Istanbul for a conference and my husband called me to say that everything was ok and I was carrying a healthy baby.  You couldn’t imagine my joy! I was finally going to enjoy the pregnancy.