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A SLICE OF HOME FOR ARMENIAN EXILES
By Kieran Cooke
BBC News, Armenia
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/prog rammes/from_our_own_correspondent/7244447.stm
2008 /02/14 14:35:13 GMT
Voters in the small republic of Armenia are soon to go to the polls to
elect a new president. But away from politics many have other things
on their minds - particularly those in the capital.
Armine grabs my arm.
"Look, why don't you invest here? Buy a flat and in one year your
money will double."
We are sitting in a small cafe in the centre of Yerevan, drinking
strong, grainy coffee.
A babushka in a white smock serves us local crusty, piping hot pancakes
filled with spicy meat paste.
Armine, formerly a teacher and translator but now a property developer,
is dressed in figure-hugging red jeans and a denim top with the message
"look at me, twice" printed across it. But she is no fashion mannequin.
Freedom gained
A product of the old Soviet-style education system, Armine speaks five
languages, has an engineering degree, and plays the cello expertly.
When I first met her on a visit to Armenia three years ago, she
dreamed of setting up a music school for children.
She was fiercely proud of being Armenian and admonished me for my
ignorance about the achievements of her people. Now the talk is only
of property and becoming rich.
It's a country that's going nowhere. I just want to make my money
and leave Armine, property developer
"It's like so many other places in the old Soviet Union. We gained
freedom but somehow we have lost our soul," says Armine.
"The Russians, once again, control most of the economy while gangsters
and oligarchs swank about in their limousines and fancy jewellery,
all powerful.
"The politicians are hopeless, only filling up their own pockets.
"It's a country that's going nowhere. I just want to make my money
and leave."
Armine is busy building up her funds. She has bought and sold homes
five times in the past two years. Each time, she says, she has doubled
her money. As Jewish families might buy a second home in Israel,
so the Armenian diaspora - present in virtually every major city in
the world and many of them extremely wealthy - are buying houses and
apartments in Yerevan and the prices keep rising.
Armenians from Beirut, from Aleppo in Syria, from Singapore, and from
Los Angeles are investing in property "back home," just in case things
go wrong elsewhere, says Armine.
The latest and most noticeable purchasers are members of the Armenian
community in Iran, just over Armenia's southern border, many of whom
have considerable financial power.
An empty city
We stroll along dust-filled streets, Armine's high heels navigating
through piles of rubble.
The Soviet era was not know for great architecture but old Yerevan
had a pleasant, intimate feel. It is sad to see it disappearing. The
diaspora buys but does not stay, says Armine.
"Meanwhile, locals find they can no longer afford to live here. One
day, this could become an empty city."
I want to leave property and building behind and go south to see a
very special mountain. Pictures of the majestic, snow-covered summit
of Mount Ararat hang in Armenian homes, in restaurants, in the offices
of millionaire bankers, all over the world.
Once, in New York undergoing treatment on a troublesome molar, I looked
up and there, glued to the ceiling, was a picture of Mount Ararat. To
Armenians, Ararat - where Noah and his ark are said to have come to
rest after the flood - is sacred, somehow a symbol of who they are. I
feel I can reach out and touch the great mountain, etched against a
clear blue sky. Except, of course, it is across the strongly guarded
border only a few miles (kilometres) away in Turkey, Armenia's
old enemy.
"You see," says Armine. "Even Ararat is in exile."
And, though this is a special place, there is no escape from the
property boom. One of Armenia's most wealthy oligarchs, who is said
to have made his initial fortune by winning the unofficial title of
world arm-wrestling champion in a Las Vegas casino, runs one of the
country's biggest cement plants. Day and night, a long plume of yellow
smoke spews out, shrouding the valley around Ararat, the fumes filling
the air.
The cement goes off to Yerevan to build yet more apartments and
shopping malls.
"Now, all I can think about is becoming rich," says Armine.
"And I will leave this place where there is no future."
There is sadness in her voice.
I am sure, for good and bad, she will achieve her twin ambitions:
wealth and exile.
>From Our Own Correspondent was broadcast on Thursday 14 February,
2008 at 1100 GMT on BBC Radio 4. Please check the programme schedules
for World Service transmission times.
By Kieran Cooke
BBC News, Armenia
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/prog rammes/from_our_own_correspondent/7244447.stm
2008 /02/14 14:35:13 GMT
Voters in the small republic of Armenia are soon to go to the polls to
elect a new president. But away from politics many have other things
on their minds - particularly those in the capital.
Armine grabs my arm.
"Look, why don't you invest here? Buy a flat and in one year your
money will double."
We are sitting in a small cafe in the centre of Yerevan, drinking
strong, grainy coffee.
A babushka in a white smock serves us local crusty, piping hot pancakes
filled with spicy meat paste.
Armine, formerly a teacher and translator but now a property developer,
is dressed in figure-hugging red jeans and a denim top with the message
"look at me, twice" printed across it. But she is no fashion mannequin.
Freedom gained
A product of the old Soviet-style education system, Armine speaks five
languages, has an engineering degree, and plays the cello expertly.
When I first met her on a visit to Armenia three years ago, she
dreamed of setting up a music school for children.
She was fiercely proud of being Armenian and admonished me for my
ignorance about the achievements of her people. Now the talk is only
of property and becoming rich.
It's a country that's going nowhere. I just want to make my money
and leave Armine, property developer
"It's like so many other places in the old Soviet Union. We gained
freedom but somehow we have lost our soul," says Armine.
"The Russians, once again, control most of the economy while gangsters
and oligarchs swank about in their limousines and fancy jewellery,
all powerful.
"The politicians are hopeless, only filling up their own pockets.
"It's a country that's going nowhere. I just want to make my money
and leave."
Armine is busy building up her funds. She has bought and sold homes
five times in the past two years. Each time, she says, she has doubled
her money. As Jewish families might buy a second home in Israel,
so the Armenian diaspora - present in virtually every major city in
the world and many of them extremely wealthy - are buying houses and
apartments in Yerevan and the prices keep rising.
Armenians from Beirut, from Aleppo in Syria, from Singapore, and from
Los Angeles are investing in property "back home," just in case things
go wrong elsewhere, says Armine.
The latest and most noticeable purchasers are members of the Armenian
community in Iran, just over Armenia's southern border, many of whom
have considerable financial power.
An empty city
We stroll along dust-filled streets, Armine's high heels navigating
through piles of rubble.
The Soviet era was not know for great architecture but old Yerevan
had a pleasant, intimate feel. It is sad to see it disappearing. The
diaspora buys but does not stay, says Armine.
"Meanwhile, locals find they can no longer afford to live here. One
day, this could become an empty city."
I want to leave property and building behind and go south to see a
very special mountain. Pictures of the majestic, snow-covered summit
of Mount Ararat hang in Armenian homes, in restaurants, in the offices
of millionaire bankers, all over the world.
Once, in New York undergoing treatment on a troublesome molar, I looked
up and there, glued to the ceiling, was a picture of Mount Ararat. To
Armenians, Ararat - where Noah and his ark are said to have come to
rest after the flood - is sacred, somehow a symbol of who they are. I
feel I can reach out and touch the great mountain, etched against a
clear blue sky. Except, of course, it is across the strongly guarded
border only a few miles (kilometres) away in Turkey, Armenia's
old enemy.
"You see," says Armine. "Even Ararat is in exile."
And, though this is a special place, there is no escape from the
property boom. One of Armenia's most wealthy oligarchs, who is said
to have made his initial fortune by winning the unofficial title of
world arm-wrestling champion in a Las Vegas casino, runs one of the
country's biggest cement plants. Day and night, a long plume of yellow
smoke spews out, shrouding the valley around Ararat, the fumes filling
the air.
The cement goes off to Yerevan to build yet more apartments and
shopping malls.
"Now, all I can think about is becoming rich," says Armine.
"And I will leave this place where there is no future."
There is sadness in her voice.
I am sure, for good and bad, she will achieve her twin ambitions:
wealth and exile.
>From Our Own Correspondent was broadcast on Thursday 14 February,
2008 at 1100 GMT on BBC Radio 4. Please check the programme schedules
for World Service transmission times.