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TRADITION: SEYFULINA DANIELYAN'S 50 YEARS OF FAMILY CAMP LIFE
By Gayane Lazarian
ArmeniaNow
28.07.10 | 16:51
Features
Gugark Camp, planet of childhood.
The woods go on forever along the winding road leading from Vanadzor
to Alaverdi. White clouds hang from green trees along deep and
shallow gorges.
Around a bend about 15 kilometers past Vanadzor and near the village
of Vahangnadzor, a sign in Armenian greets travelers: "Welcome to
Gugark Camp!"
Visitors are welcomed only after clearing details at a gate from
which information is passed on to the grand matron of Gugark,
Seyfulina Danielyan, who has been greeting guests and dismissing
difficulties for 32 years on this ground in the lush Lori province
about 100 kilometers north of Yerevan.
Enlarge Photo Seyfulina Danielyan "All my dreams have come true, but
I hope I will still manage to do many things for my large family"."In
1956, when Artyom Yerznkyan, then head of Railway Administration,
passed through these parts, he said it was like a fairy tale setting,
and decided to build a camp here for railway employees' children,"
says "Tikin" (grandma) Danielyan.
The roots of Gugark Camp go deeper than its current location, however.
The camp was founded in Zghlghoch, a good distance from the current
camp, and it belonged to railroaders, too. (In the Soviet era,
different organizations had their camps, where in summer months,
their employees' children rested.)
"Because the camp did not have its own building, we settled in the
schools of Spitak and Vanadzor. My camp activity started in one of
those schools, too. Only after 1958, the camp had its own building,"
says Danielyan, 72, who considers the camp to be her home.
She is a teacher by profession. Her summers of camp life stretch to
the days when, as an eighth-grader, she was a camp counselor, then a
group leader, and in 1978 became director and substitute mother to
some 1,000 youngsters annually (after the Soviet Union's collapse)
who have spent from one week to 16 days here summer after summer.
After the Soviet Union collapsed, Danielyan privatized the camp.
"I came to the camp as a schoolgirl, and I grew old at the camp,"
she says, not being able to hide her emotions.
One of the annexes of the camp suffered from the earthquake in 1988,
and the camp stopped running in 1991-1993. Only after renovating and
strengthening the building, the camp was reopened in 1994 and since,
the sound of morning bugle has echoed along with the occasional
passing train whistle to signal the ritual of camp life for Danielyan
and the children who form ranks to start their days.
On this July morning about 200 campers join the ranks. The leaders
of the detachments command: "Eyes right, attention!" The commanders
of detachments start reporting. And then the detachments say their
mottos: "The camp is our home, and we are its owners." The hymn of the
Republic of Armenia is played, and the detachments' leaders together
raise the flag of the tricolor.
The Gugark season begins every June 10. It has five shifts of 16
days, during which up to 200 kids from 7-15 years old from different
provinces of Armenia, but also from Russia and European countries
come for a summer ritual that has hardly changed over the years,
though letters home have been replaced by mobile phones by children
whose first question whether there is internet.
Parents pay 5,000 drams (about $13) per child. (Discounts are given
for more than one child from the same family.) Orphans attend free
of charge, as do some disadvantaged village children. The camp does
not have sponsors; all expenses are covered by attendance fees.
Many campers arrive by train from Yerevan, getting off at Vahangnadzor.
Lilit Khanamiryan, 25, has been one of the camp detachment members
for many years, now she is a camp detachment leader.
"Of course, there is a great difference between this generation
and our generation. At nights, lying in their beds, children visit
Odnoklassniki website (social network - using their cell phones) or
play with their cell phones. So we must be strong enough to accommodate
their interests. This generation must be spoken to in its language,"
Lilit says.
The message appears to be timeless, as Gugark gets many repeat campers.
Anahit Greyan, 14, is here for the third time, and Armine Babayan,
16, for the fourth time. Brothers Suren and Gevorg Nikoghosyan come
here from Belgium for the second year and stay for four weeks. The
veteran campers say that each year they look forward to the peculiar
pleasures of camp life - bonfires, hikes, games, films, day-trips . . .
Things change - technology, trends, fashion . . . Some things don't -
having a mother figure to turn to year after year after year at Gugark
. . .
The Grand Dame of the camp is asked how Gugark remains popular.
"I ask myself that question," tikin Danielyan syas. "I cannot answer
for sure - the site, warmth, approach? I often feel bad that I cannot
afford doing many things for children because of financial problems,
but I do everything within our power."
Photo albums, telling the history of the camp, lay on a table. It is
also Seyfulina Danielyan's history, and it shows that she has, indeed,
been an extended member of many families that now include parents,
their children, and their children's children for whom Gugarik has
been a growing-up experience.
"Now these children are my grandchildren," Danielyan says. "This is
a wonderful generation; it is only necessary to understand them, as
they grow up in this developed world". She calls the camp a "planet
of kindness".
She turns from a conversation and checks on things in the kitchen,
where bread and cookies are home made.
The director compares this camp season to those of the many days
gone by.
She remembers how, during the Soviet era, camp food was allotted
according to grams - careful that each amount was equal.
"I used to go to the kitchen and take the food secretly, and distribute
them among children," she recalls.
Over the years, Gugarik has modernized but held onto traditions that
are a throwback to its Soviet origins - patriotic songs, bandannas
around the necks identifying this or that group, morning exercise . .
.
Danielyan is, herself, part of the tradition. She says there are no
bad children, no bad parents, no bad teachers. "Even the worst child
becomes kind here," she boasts.
Her 32nd season will pass in a few weeks and nearly immediately she'll
start thinking about next year.
"All my dreams have come true,' Danielyan says. "I hope that till the
sunset of my own life, I will still manage to do many things for my
large family. I do not imagine my life without the camp. Hundreds of
children came and left. I live with the satisfaction that they get
from here. The upbringing here is quite different, this is a family."
From: A. Papazian
By Gayane Lazarian
ArmeniaNow
28.07.10 | 16:51
Features
Gugark Camp, planet of childhood.
The woods go on forever along the winding road leading from Vanadzor
to Alaverdi. White clouds hang from green trees along deep and
shallow gorges.
Around a bend about 15 kilometers past Vanadzor and near the village
of Vahangnadzor, a sign in Armenian greets travelers: "Welcome to
Gugark Camp!"
Visitors are welcomed only after clearing details at a gate from
which information is passed on to the grand matron of Gugark,
Seyfulina Danielyan, who has been greeting guests and dismissing
difficulties for 32 years on this ground in the lush Lori province
about 100 kilometers north of Yerevan.
Enlarge Photo Seyfulina Danielyan "All my dreams have come true, but
I hope I will still manage to do many things for my large family"."In
1956, when Artyom Yerznkyan, then head of Railway Administration,
passed through these parts, he said it was like a fairy tale setting,
and decided to build a camp here for railway employees' children,"
says "Tikin" (grandma) Danielyan.
The roots of Gugark Camp go deeper than its current location, however.
The camp was founded in Zghlghoch, a good distance from the current
camp, and it belonged to railroaders, too. (In the Soviet era,
different organizations had their camps, where in summer months,
their employees' children rested.)
"Because the camp did not have its own building, we settled in the
schools of Spitak and Vanadzor. My camp activity started in one of
those schools, too. Only after 1958, the camp had its own building,"
says Danielyan, 72, who considers the camp to be her home.
She is a teacher by profession. Her summers of camp life stretch to
the days when, as an eighth-grader, she was a camp counselor, then a
group leader, and in 1978 became director and substitute mother to
some 1,000 youngsters annually (after the Soviet Union's collapse)
who have spent from one week to 16 days here summer after summer.
After the Soviet Union collapsed, Danielyan privatized the camp.
"I came to the camp as a schoolgirl, and I grew old at the camp,"
she says, not being able to hide her emotions.
One of the annexes of the camp suffered from the earthquake in 1988,
and the camp stopped running in 1991-1993. Only after renovating and
strengthening the building, the camp was reopened in 1994 and since,
the sound of morning bugle has echoed along with the occasional
passing train whistle to signal the ritual of camp life for Danielyan
and the children who form ranks to start their days.
On this July morning about 200 campers join the ranks. The leaders
of the detachments command: "Eyes right, attention!" The commanders
of detachments start reporting. And then the detachments say their
mottos: "The camp is our home, and we are its owners." The hymn of the
Republic of Armenia is played, and the detachments' leaders together
raise the flag of the tricolor.
The Gugark season begins every June 10. It has five shifts of 16
days, during which up to 200 kids from 7-15 years old from different
provinces of Armenia, but also from Russia and European countries
come for a summer ritual that has hardly changed over the years,
though letters home have been replaced by mobile phones by children
whose first question whether there is internet.
Parents pay 5,000 drams (about $13) per child. (Discounts are given
for more than one child from the same family.) Orphans attend free
of charge, as do some disadvantaged village children. The camp does
not have sponsors; all expenses are covered by attendance fees.
Many campers arrive by train from Yerevan, getting off at Vahangnadzor.
Lilit Khanamiryan, 25, has been one of the camp detachment members
for many years, now she is a camp detachment leader.
"Of course, there is a great difference between this generation
and our generation. At nights, lying in their beds, children visit
Odnoklassniki website (social network - using their cell phones) or
play with their cell phones. So we must be strong enough to accommodate
their interests. This generation must be spoken to in its language,"
Lilit says.
The message appears to be timeless, as Gugark gets many repeat campers.
Anahit Greyan, 14, is here for the third time, and Armine Babayan,
16, for the fourth time. Brothers Suren and Gevorg Nikoghosyan come
here from Belgium for the second year and stay for four weeks. The
veteran campers say that each year they look forward to the peculiar
pleasures of camp life - bonfires, hikes, games, films, day-trips . . .
Things change - technology, trends, fashion . . . Some things don't -
having a mother figure to turn to year after year after year at Gugark
. . .
The Grand Dame of the camp is asked how Gugark remains popular.
"I ask myself that question," tikin Danielyan syas. "I cannot answer
for sure - the site, warmth, approach? I often feel bad that I cannot
afford doing many things for children because of financial problems,
but I do everything within our power."
Photo albums, telling the history of the camp, lay on a table. It is
also Seyfulina Danielyan's history, and it shows that she has, indeed,
been an extended member of many families that now include parents,
their children, and their children's children for whom Gugarik has
been a growing-up experience.
"Now these children are my grandchildren," Danielyan says. "This is
a wonderful generation; it is only necessary to understand them, as
they grow up in this developed world". She calls the camp a "planet
of kindness".
She turns from a conversation and checks on things in the kitchen,
where bread and cookies are home made.
The director compares this camp season to those of the many days
gone by.
She remembers how, during the Soviet era, camp food was allotted
according to grams - careful that each amount was equal.
"I used to go to the kitchen and take the food secretly, and distribute
them among children," she recalls.
Over the years, Gugarik has modernized but held onto traditions that
are a throwback to its Soviet origins - patriotic songs, bandannas
around the necks identifying this or that group, morning exercise . .
.
Danielyan is, herself, part of the tradition. She says there are no
bad children, no bad parents, no bad teachers. "Even the worst child
becomes kind here," she boasts.
Her 32nd season will pass in a few weeks and nearly immediately she'll
start thinking about next year.
"All my dreams have come true,' Danielyan says. "I hope that till the
sunset of my own life, I will still manage to do many things for my
large family. I do not imagine my life without the camp. Hundreds of
children came and left. I live with the satisfaction that they get
from here. The upbringing here is quite different, this is a family."
From: A. Papazian