PAST'S PRESENT; EMERGING FROM A TURBULENT PAST, ARMENIA IS CAUGHT IN A CLASH OF OLD AND NEW AS IT EMBRACES CAPITALISM
The Straits Times (Singapore)
November 3, 2009 Tuesday
The Armenian taxi driver was an instant friend.
Within five minutes of our meeting, he had invited me to his home
for coffee and a meal, and told me how close we were. Like brothers,
he indicated, putting two meaty fingers together.
I had approached him after reaching the town of Garni, from where
I was heading for Geghard Monastery, possibly Armenia's most famous
sight. Fourthcentury monks had carved it out of rock in the craggy
hills above Azat River and it was accessible only by taxi.
In a flurry of gestures, rapid-fire Armenian and the occasional
'caaawfeee', Ludwig told me we would drop by his home on the way back.
To show he meant what he said, he drove home and introduced me to
his family before we continued on to Geghard.
Once there, however, everything changed. A Russian couple had hired
him to take them to the next town after dropping me off - I had paid
him to take me to the monastery and back - and suddenly, Ludwig had
lost all interest in me.
Back at Garni, he pulled up at the bus stop and indicated that I
should get off to take a bus back to the Armenian capital of Yerevan.
'Yerevan bus here. Out,' he said with a polite but cursory wave.
No more brothers, no more coffee and not even a hearty goodbye
handshake, which Armenians exchange frequently.
In five minutes, it was bye-bye friendship, and hello, new business.
In a way, it is probably a story of Armenia, a country in the heart of
Caucasus that is caught between old and new, between ancient Christian
traditions, a turbulent past and a new wave of capitalism.
In Yerevan, where one out of three of the country's three million
residents live, the living dilemma of a modernising Armenia is evident.
On clear days, you can see Mount Ararat in the distance, a reminder
that the city is near where Noah's Ark was said to have landed after
the biblical flood subsided.
In ancient churches such as the bedroom-sized Katoghike, Yerevanites
worship before traditional altars laden with religious icons and burn
incense, in scenes reminiscent of Greek orthodox churches.
Armenia was the first country in the world to declare itself a
Christian state. Christianity had made its way here not long after
the time of Christ - via two of His disciples, in fact.
The somewhat run-down, slate-grey slabs of buildings that dot the
capital, however, are a stark reminder of its 70 years under Soviet
rule. And the occasional public display of posters and pictures related
to the 1915 mass killings of Armenians remind you of a perennially
sensitive topic that mars the country's ties with neighbouring Turkey.
Armenia says as many as 1.5 million Armenians were slaughtered by the
Turkish Ottoman leaders as part of an organised campaign to force
the people out of eastern Turkey in World War I. Turkey, however,
maintains that they were victims of a civil war, not genocide.
Only recently have their leaders made headway in establishing formal
ties, but the weight of history is palpable in the occasional protest
march, especially around commemorative days.
The grey buildings contrast with the lively, summer feel in the
numerous European-style street cafes, bringing to mind a scene of
Western Europe.
There are few corners in Yerevan where you cannot see scores of
well-dressed urbanites sipping cappuccinos in alfresco cafes, watching
the world go by.
Armenia, it appears, is in transition between the old and the new,
communism and capitalism, traditions and modernity. Here, you might
find it hard to decide whether you are in Western or Eastern Europe,
or Central Asia.
Armenia's monasteries and churches could have come out of ancient
Europe. But Geghard Monastery and the pagan temple of Garni seem to
take you back to the ancient Mediterranean.
Surrounded by misty mountains north of Yerevan, Geghard features,
among other things, a tomb carved out of rock that produces seemingly
endless echoes, as well as a sacrifice site that is still being used.
For animals, that is.
Garni, on the other hand, sits high on a promontory, from where you can
catch breathtaking views of the lonely, green-clad mountains around.
Against the haunting tunes of a flute played by the occasional busker
inside the temple, it is almost hard to tell if you are in Greece
or Ireland.
But talk to Armenians and you might feel like you are in Central Asia.
Bushy eyebrows, dark eyes and a mix of Oriental and Russian facial
features remind you of Armenia's location - a bit of Europe, Asia and
the Middle East. Its four neighbours - Turkey, Georgia, Azerbaijan
and Iran - come from all parts.
The food, too, is a veritable mix. Kebabs and lavaash - a flat
chapati-like bread - are as plentiful as the hearty, Hungarian
goulash-like soups, cheese and salami.
Accessible, safe and developed yet still exotic and mysterious,
Armenia is an interesting mix for the traveller who has done the
usual European destinations.
Why, you might even meet Ludwig.
[email protected]
Getting there A number of airlines fly to Yerevan from European cities
such as London, France and Moscow. Flights are expensive, though -
be prepared to pay $3,000 to $4,000 return.
The Straits Times (Singapore)
November 3, 2009 Tuesday
The Armenian taxi driver was an instant friend.
Within five minutes of our meeting, he had invited me to his home
for coffee and a meal, and told me how close we were. Like brothers,
he indicated, putting two meaty fingers together.
I had approached him after reaching the town of Garni, from where
I was heading for Geghard Monastery, possibly Armenia's most famous
sight. Fourthcentury monks had carved it out of rock in the craggy
hills above Azat River and it was accessible only by taxi.
In a flurry of gestures, rapid-fire Armenian and the occasional
'caaawfeee', Ludwig told me we would drop by his home on the way back.
To show he meant what he said, he drove home and introduced me to
his family before we continued on to Geghard.
Once there, however, everything changed. A Russian couple had hired
him to take them to the next town after dropping me off - I had paid
him to take me to the monastery and back - and suddenly, Ludwig had
lost all interest in me.
Back at Garni, he pulled up at the bus stop and indicated that I
should get off to take a bus back to the Armenian capital of Yerevan.
'Yerevan bus here. Out,' he said with a polite but cursory wave.
No more brothers, no more coffee and not even a hearty goodbye
handshake, which Armenians exchange frequently.
In five minutes, it was bye-bye friendship, and hello, new business.
In a way, it is probably a story of Armenia, a country in the heart of
Caucasus that is caught between old and new, between ancient Christian
traditions, a turbulent past and a new wave of capitalism.
In Yerevan, where one out of three of the country's three million
residents live, the living dilemma of a modernising Armenia is evident.
On clear days, you can see Mount Ararat in the distance, a reminder
that the city is near where Noah's Ark was said to have landed after
the biblical flood subsided.
In ancient churches such as the bedroom-sized Katoghike, Yerevanites
worship before traditional altars laden with religious icons and burn
incense, in scenes reminiscent of Greek orthodox churches.
Armenia was the first country in the world to declare itself a
Christian state. Christianity had made its way here not long after
the time of Christ - via two of His disciples, in fact.
The somewhat run-down, slate-grey slabs of buildings that dot the
capital, however, are a stark reminder of its 70 years under Soviet
rule. And the occasional public display of posters and pictures related
to the 1915 mass killings of Armenians remind you of a perennially
sensitive topic that mars the country's ties with neighbouring Turkey.
Armenia says as many as 1.5 million Armenians were slaughtered by the
Turkish Ottoman leaders as part of an organised campaign to force
the people out of eastern Turkey in World War I. Turkey, however,
maintains that they were victims of a civil war, not genocide.
Only recently have their leaders made headway in establishing formal
ties, but the weight of history is palpable in the occasional protest
march, especially around commemorative days.
The grey buildings contrast with the lively, summer feel in the
numerous European-style street cafes, bringing to mind a scene of
Western Europe.
There are few corners in Yerevan where you cannot see scores of
well-dressed urbanites sipping cappuccinos in alfresco cafes, watching
the world go by.
Armenia, it appears, is in transition between the old and the new,
communism and capitalism, traditions and modernity. Here, you might
find it hard to decide whether you are in Western or Eastern Europe,
or Central Asia.
Armenia's monasteries and churches could have come out of ancient
Europe. But Geghard Monastery and the pagan temple of Garni seem to
take you back to the ancient Mediterranean.
Surrounded by misty mountains north of Yerevan, Geghard features,
among other things, a tomb carved out of rock that produces seemingly
endless echoes, as well as a sacrifice site that is still being used.
For animals, that is.
Garni, on the other hand, sits high on a promontory, from where you can
catch breathtaking views of the lonely, green-clad mountains around.
Against the haunting tunes of a flute played by the occasional busker
inside the temple, it is almost hard to tell if you are in Greece
or Ireland.
But talk to Armenians and you might feel like you are in Central Asia.
Bushy eyebrows, dark eyes and a mix of Oriental and Russian facial
features remind you of Armenia's location - a bit of Europe, Asia and
the Middle East. Its four neighbours - Turkey, Georgia, Azerbaijan
and Iran - come from all parts.
The food, too, is a veritable mix. Kebabs and lavaash - a flat
chapati-like bread - are as plentiful as the hearty, Hungarian
goulash-like soups, cheese and salami.
Accessible, safe and developed yet still exotic and mysterious,
Armenia is an interesting mix for the traveller who has done the
usual European destinations.
Why, you might even meet Ludwig.
[email protected]
Getting there A number of airlines fly to Yerevan from European cities
such as London, France and Moscow. Flights are expensive, though -
be prepared to pay $3,000 to $4,000 return.