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FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Fund for Armenian Relief
630 Second Avenue, New York, NY 10016
Contact: Edina N. Bobelian
Tel: (212) 889-5150; Fax: (212) 889-4849
E-mail: [email protected]
Website: www.farusa.org
September 10, 2004
____________________
EXPLORING ARMENIA INSPIRES A YOUNG PROFESSIONAL
Reflections on the Fund for Armenian Relief's Trip to Armenia and
Karabagh
By Laura Kostin
In the weeks leading up to the Young Professionals Trip, I was full of
anticipation and longing. I was finally making the journey I had dreamed
of all my life. But, as I packed up my suitcase, I suddenly felt
terrified. I wasn’t afraid of flying or traveling far from home. It
wasn’t anything simple like that. In fact, it wasn’t really fear at
all. It was anxiety and insecurity. You see, I’m only half Armenian. I
don’t speak Armenian. And before this trip, I didn’t have many friends
in the community or any tangible connection to the country. I was a bit
of misfit. But, little did I know, my life was about to change.
When I arrived at JFK, I spotted two girls lugging suitcases across the
parking lot. I knew immediately that they were Armenian. I wondered
whether these girls would like me or if I’d be an outcast. As I waited
online at the check-in counter, I looked over the list of people I’d be
traveling with. As I expected, I didn’t know anyone. Then, I saw that
my name was the only one without an “i-a-n” at the end. It stuck out.
I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that I didn’t belong.
After checking in, I introduced myself to Edina (from FAR) and her
husband Michael. Edina was warm and reassuring. I was so grateful for
her kindness. I soon learned there were a few other people who didn’t
speak Armenian on the trip. I was relieved—at least I wasn’t the only
one. At the gate our group assembled, introduced themselves and made
small talk. Everyone was extremely friendly and very eager to get to
know each other. Soon enough, my spirits began to lift. When we boarded
the plane all 20 of us were virtually strangers, but we made our way
halfway across the world, together.
We arrived at Zvartnots airport around midnight. We were exhausted, but
at the same time we were full of yearning. We boarded our bus and made
our way to our hotel. Along the way, we strained to see what we could
of our Motherland through the darkness. Finally, in our hotel room, my
roommate Marla and I opened our window. We hung our heads out to breathe
the air, to hear the sounds of the street and stare into the blackness.
We were finally here. We couldn’t believe it, and we could barely wait
till morning.
After breakfast at the hotel, we departed for our first excursion. We
were to see the pagan temple of Garni and the monastery of Geghard. On
the way, we stopped at a set of stairs by the roadside. The stairs led
to a stone archway. Arto, our guardian, father figure and guide urged
us off the bus. We followed his direction and climbed the steps. What
lay beyond took our breath away. It was our beautiful Ararat. The
mountain we’d waited all our lives to see. We could barely move. We
were mesmerized.
We continued on to Garni and Geghard. We were blown away by Gegard’s
stunning beauty. We walked through ancient stone chambers and passages.
Then, we found ourselves in a room with a waterfall. The water
collected in a pool that we learned was also used for baptisms. Through
this church over 1,000 years old, flowed a living spring! One by one,
we put our lips to the water and drank in our past.
Once we arrived back in Yerevan, we set out to explore the city. Seeing
Republic Square for the first time filled us with awe. We took pictures
from every angle. The architecture, the fountains, the people, the
energy… it was electric. There were celebrations in the Square that
night. Music was everywhere. We watched as girls danced in traditional
Armenian dress and singers performed on stage. A short time later, as
we sat down for our first dinner together, a series of loud bangs sent
us rushing to the street. There, fireworks exploded in the darkness
around us. We hugged in the road and stared at the sky.
Yerevan is an extraordinary city. Art is everywhere. Beautiful
sculptures are all around. There are quaint cafés, elegant restaurants,
beautiful shops and flowering gardens. We went out of our way to speak
to people we passed on the city streets. We may have seemed silly and
maybe even a little nosy. But we had come so far and we were so curious
about their lives.
Not all of our trips were cheerful, some of them were solemn. Like the
one we took to the Genocide memorial. Though we knew it would bring us
pain, and sadness and an overwhelming sense of loss, we were drawn
there. My grandfather was one of our family’s only survivors. He never
had the chance to lay a flower or pay final respects to the family he
lost. So I did it. I did it for him, and for our family. I called my
mother to tell her I had gone to see the eternal flame. I listened as
she wept. Through her tears, she recounted the story of our family. A
story I’ve heard too many times to count. But I know she needed to tell
me again. And even though the story is heart wrenching and even though
I know the ending, I listened. I will never forget. That’s part of
reason I came to Armenia. To date, I am the only family member to ever
to travel to Armenia. I came to reclaim what had been misplaced in our
family. To rekindle a dialog with Armenia… one that had been
interrupted by too much pain and the passage of far too much time. I
suspect I’m not the only one in our group who came to Armenia for these
reasons.
Over the next few days, we began to learn more about Armenia, its people
and its challenges. Armenia has withstood a series of severe economic
shocks. The devastating earthquake of December 7, 1988 killed more than
25,000 people and made hundreds of thousands homeless. A short time
later in 1991, the Soviet Union disintegrated. Though Armenia
ultimately gained its independence, the Soviet Union’s decline brought
an abrupt end to the communist system. Soviet investment in Armenia
slowed to a trickle, government paychecks ceased to come in and the
economy all but ground to a halt. Though Armenia has undergone an
economic rebirth in recent years, the current blockades along the
Turkish and Azeri borders are major drags on the economy. The blockages
essentially prevent the flow of goods into and out of Armenia and make
trade very difficult.
Though Armenia faces challenges, everywhere we went we saw hope and we
saw progress. We saw new roads being built and new housing being
constructed. We saw holy sites being restored and our beautiful churches
lovingly cared for. We also got to see some of FAR’s amazing projects.
One of most impressive places we saw was the FAR Children’s Reception
and Orientation Center which provides housing and medical care to
Armenia’s homeless street children. Not only were the facilities
wonderful, but the staff was caring, passionate and devoted. It was
touching to see how deeply FAR cared for the welfare of the children.
We saw more of FAR’s splendid work in Gyumri, a city still recovering
the massive 1988 quake. The Ounjian School featured modern classrooms,
new computers and very a cheerful atmosphere. Inside the school, there
was an air of hope and opportunity for the children of Gyumri, children
who have seen an unbelievable amount of hardship and devastation.
Our journey took us to some truly spectacular places. We spent a night
on glistening Lake Sevan, we climbed into St. Gregory’s pit in Khor
Virap and we traveled to the remote Gandzasar Monastery in
Nagorno-Karabagh, where the head of St. John the Baptist is believed to
rest beneath the altar. We even made a pilgrimage to holy Etchmiadzin.
During Badarak, the cathedral echoes with the voices of the faithful.
It really was a magical experience.
Before I took this unbelievable trip, Armenia was a place I thought
about when I looked backward. It was a place I associated with my
family’s tragic past, and with loved ones like my grandfather who are
gone. But Armenia is no longer behind me. It’s now part of my present
and my future. The truth is Armenia’s arms are wide open to the
children who care enough to seek her out and embrace her. She opened
herself to me and I’m no longer a misfit.
FAR's trip provides the ideal opportunity for young professionals
between the ages of 23 and 40 to travel to Armenia and Karabagh as a
group. Participants do more than just see the country’s sites. They
learn about Armenia’s place in the world – her religious, political and
economic heritage – and engage government and religious leaders in
official state visits.
FAR is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization headquartered in New York,
with offices in Yerevan, Gyumri, and Stepanakert. For 15 years, FAR has
implemented various relief, development, social, educational, and
cultural projects valued at more than $250 million. It remains the
preeminent Diasporan organization operating in Armenia.
For more information about next year's Young Professionals Trip or to
send donations, interested persons should contact the Fund for Armenian
Relief at 630 Second Avenue, New York, NY 10016; telephone (212)
889-5150, fax (212) 889-4849; www.farusa.org, [email protected].
-- 9/10/04
E-mail photo available upon request.
PHOTO CAPTION: The 2004 Young Professionals Trip participants pause in
front of Ararat during their tour of Armenia and Karabagh.
# # #
Fund for Armenian Relief
630 Second Avenue, New York, NY 10016
Contact: Edina N. Bobelian
Tel: (212) 889-5150; Fax: (212) 889-4849
E-mail: [email protected]
Website: www.farusa.org
September 10, 2004
____________________
EXPLORING ARMENIA INSPIRES A YOUNG PROFESSIONAL
Reflections on the Fund for Armenian Relief's Trip to Armenia and
Karabagh
By Laura Kostin
In the weeks leading up to the Young Professionals Trip, I was full of
anticipation and longing. I was finally making the journey I had dreamed
of all my life. But, as I packed up my suitcase, I suddenly felt
terrified. I wasn’t afraid of flying or traveling far from home. It
wasn’t anything simple like that. In fact, it wasn’t really fear at
all. It was anxiety and insecurity. You see, I’m only half Armenian. I
don’t speak Armenian. And before this trip, I didn’t have many friends
in the community or any tangible connection to the country. I was a bit
of misfit. But, little did I know, my life was about to change.
When I arrived at JFK, I spotted two girls lugging suitcases across the
parking lot. I knew immediately that they were Armenian. I wondered
whether these girls would like me or if I’d be an outcast. As I waited
online at the check-in counter, I looked over the list of people I’d be
traveling with. As I expected, I didn’t know anyone. Then, I saw that
my name was the only one without an “i-a-n” at the end. It stuck out.
I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that I didn’t belong.
After checking in, I introduced myself to Edina (from FAR) and her
husband Michael. Edina was warm and reassuring. I was so grateful for
her kindness. I soon learned there were a few other people who didn’t
speak Armenian on the trip. I was relieved—at least I wasn’t the only
one. At the gate our group assembled, introduced themselves and made
small talk. Everyone was extremely friendly and very eager to get to
know each other. Soon enough, my spirits began to lift. When we boarded
the plane all 20 of us were virtually strangers, but we made our way
halfway across the world, together.
We arrived at Zvartnots airport around midnight. We were exhausted, but
at the same time we were full of yearning. We boarded our bus and made
our way to our hotel. Along the way, we strained to see what we could
of our Motherland through the darkness. Finally, in our hotel room, my
roommate Marla and I opened our window. We hung our heads out to breathe
the air, to hear the sounds of the street and stare into the blackness.
We were finally here. We couldn’t believe it, and we could barely wait
till morning.
After breakfast at the hotel, we departed for our first excursion. We
were to see the pagan temple of Garni and the monastery of Geghard. On
the way, we stopped at a set of stairs by the roadside. The stairs led
to a stone archway. Arto, our guardian, father figure and guide urged
us off the bus. We followed his direction and climbed the steps. What
lay beyond took our breath away. It was our beautiful Ararat. The
mountain we’d waited all our lives to see. We could barely move. We
were mesmerized.
We continued on to Garni and Geghard. We were blown away by Gegard’s
stunning beauty. We walked through ancient stone chambers and passages.
Then, we found ourselves in a room with a waterfall. The water
collected in a pool that we learned was also used for baptisms. Through
this church over 1,000 years old, flowed a living spring! One by one,
we put our lips to the water and drank in our past.
Once we arrived back in Yerevan, we set out to explore the city. Seeing
Republic Square for the first time filled us with awe. We took pictures
from every angle. The architecture, the fountains, the people, the
energy… it was electric. There were celebrations in the Square that
night. Music was everywhere. We watched as girls danced in traditional
Armenian dress and singers performed on stage. A short time later, as
we sat down for our first dinner together, a series of loud bangs sent
us rushing to the street. There, fireworks exploded in the darkness
around us. We hugged in the road and stared at the sky.
Yerevan is an extraordinary city. Art is everywhere. Beautiful
sculptures are all around. There are quaint cafés, elegant restaurants,
beautiful shops and flowering gardens. We went out of our way to speak
to people we passed on the city streets. We may have seemed silly and
maybe even a little nosy. But we had come so far and we were so curious
about their lives.
Not all of our trips were cheerful, some of them were solemn. Like the
one we took to the Genocide memorial. Though we knew it would bring us
pain, and sadness and an overwhelming sense of loss, we were drawn
there. My grandfather was one of our family’s only survivors. He never
had the chance to lay a flower or pay final respects to the family he
lost. So I did it. I did it for him, and for our family. I called my
mother to tell her I had gone to see the eternal flame. I listened as
she wept. Through her tears, she recounted the story of our family. A
story I’ve heard too many times to count. But I know she needed to tell
me again. And even though the story is heart wrenching and even though
I know the ending, I listened. I will never forget. That’s part of
reason I came to Armenia. To date, I am the only family member to ever
to travel to Armenia. I came to reclaim what had been misplaced in our
family. To rekindle a dialog with Armenia… one that had been
interrupted by too much pain and the passage of far too much time. I
suspect I’m not the only one in our group who came to Armenia for these
reasons.
Over the next few days, we began to learn more about Armenia, its people
and its challenges. Armenia has withstood a series of severe economic
shocks. The devastating earthquake of December 7, 1988 killed more than
25,000 people and made hundreds of thousands homeless. A short time
later in 1991, the Soviet Union disintegrated. Though Armenia
ultimately gained its independence, the Soviet Union’s decline brought
an abrupt end to the communist system. Soviet investment in Armenia
slowed to a trickle, government paychecks ceased to come in and the
economy all but ground to a halt. Though Armenia has undergone an
economic rebirth in recent years, the current blockades along the
Turkish and Azeri borders are major drags on the economy. The blockages
essentially prevent the flow of goods into and out of Armenia and make
trade very difficult.
Though Armenia faces challenges, everywhere we went we saw hope and we
saw progress. We saw new roads being built and new housing being
constructed. We saw holy sites being restored and our beautiful churches
lovingly cared for. We also got to see some of FAR’s amazing projects.
One of most impressive places we saw was the FAR Children’s Reception
and Orientation Center which provides housing and medical care to
Armenia’s homeless street children. Not only were the facilities
wonderful, but the staff was caring, passionate and devoted. It was
touching to see how deeply FAR cared for the welfare of the children.
We saw more of FAR’s splendid work in Gyumri, a city still recovering
the massive 1988 quake. The Ounjian School featured modern classrooms,
new computers and very a cheerful atmosphere. Inside the school, there
was an air of hope and opportunity for the children of Gyumri, children
who have seen an unbelievable amount of hardship and devastation.
Our journey took us to some truly spectacular places. We spent a night
on glistening Lake Sevan, we climbed into St. Gregory’s pit in Khor
Virap and we traveled to the remote Gandzasar Monastery in
Nagorno-Karabagh, where the head of St. John the Baptist is believed to
rest beneath the altar. We even made a pilgrimage to holy Etchmiadzin.
During Badarak, the cathedral echoes with the voices of the faithful.
It really was a magical experience.
Before I took this unbelievable trip, Armenia was a place I thought
about when I looked backward. It was a place I associated with my
family’s tragic past, and with loved ones like my grandfather who are
gone. But Armenia is no longer behind me. It’s now part of my present
and my future. The truth is Armenia’s arms are wide open to the
children who care enough to seek her out and embrace her. She opened
herself to me and I’m no longer a misfit.
FAR's trip provides the ideal opportunity for young professionals
between the ages of 23 and 40 to travel to Armenia and Karabagh as a
group. Participants do more than just see the country’s sites. They
learn about Armenia’s place in the world – her religious, political and
economic heritage – and engage government and religious leaders in
official state visits.
FAR is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization headquartered in New York,
with offices in Yerevan, Gyumri, and Stepanakert. For 15 years, FAR has
implemented various relief, development, social, educational, and
cultural projects valued at more than $250 million. It remains the
preeminent Diasporan organization operating in Armenia.
For more information about next year's Young Professionals Trip or to
send donations, interested persons should contact the Fund for Armenian
Relief at 630 Second Avenue, New York, NY 10016; telephone (212)
889-5150, fax (212) 889-4849; www.farusa.org, [email protected].
-- 9/10/04
E-mail photo available upon request.
PHOTO CAPTION: The 2004 Young Professionals Trip participants pause in
front of Ararat during their tour of Armenia and Karabagh.
# # #