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48 Hours in Javakhk
http://www.armenianweekly.com/2012/08/13/48-hours-in-javakhk/
Posted by Varant
Meguerditchianon
August 13, 2012
Much has been said about the need to help Javakhk, but little is known
about the realities and conditions under which the local Armenians live. On
a steamy June morning in Yerevan, I embarked on an unforgettable journey to
this region and among the courageous Armenians who call Javakhk their home.
[image: Garmir Jham 300x224 48 Hours in
Javakhk]
Garmir Jham
My guide is Dr. Vahe Sargsyan, historian, political analyst, and proud son
of Javakhk. I first met Vahe in 2007 during a visit to Armenia. At the time
he had just published his first book on the history of Javakhk. Now working
and living in Yerevan, Vahe regularly takes time off to visit his childhood
home in the village of Ghado and spend time with his elderly father Davit.
The journey through northern Armenia is long, and while the roads are worn,
the beauty of the green mountain landscape decorated with the purples,
reds, and yellows of wild flowers makes the trip enjoyable. The old blue
bus driving us to Javakhk is packed full of Javakhk locals heading home to
the cities and villages of their mountainous homeland.
The historically Armenian populated region of Javakhk is pinned between the
Georgian capital of Tbilisi, the Republic of Armenia, and Turkey. While the
exact number of Armenians living in Javakhk is not known, it is estimated
to be anywhere between 100,000 and 200,000.
It takes us five hours to reach the Javakhk border. The first town we pass
through is Ninotsminda. Founded by the Russians in the late 19th century
the former imperial border-town remains populated by Armenians. As we pass
through, however, we see little evidence of an Armenian presence. Not a
single street name, shop sign, or poster is written in Armenian.
>From Ninotsminda along the road to Akhalkalak, major construction is
underway on a new rail-line. According to Vahe the rail-line is part of the
Azerbaijan-Georgia-Turkey rail network, bypassing Armenia. Once complete,
the rail-line will cement Armenia's economic isolation. Equally concerning,
however, is the Turkish ownership of the infrastructure and the presence of
Turkish workers brought in to live amongst the Armenian population of
Javakhk.
[image: Dapadzghour 300x224 48 Hours in
Javakhk]
Dapadzghour
Further north as we draw nearer to Ghado, the asphalt turns to dirt. The
final few kilometers of rocky road lengthen our travel time quite
substantially. There is little Georgian government investment here in
Javakhk's northern villages, and this has a major impact on the economic
potential of the Armenian population.
In Ghado, Vahe introduces me to his father Davit who, despite his limp and
walking stick, attempts to carry my bags into his home.
Davit lives alone. His eldest, Vahe, is already spending most of his time
in Yerevan while his wife Varduhi is away helping their youngest son Gagik,
who recently found work in Russia. This is typical of the circumstances of
many. The limited commercial opportunities are leading to the depopulation
of the Armenian villages of Javakhk.
While having lunch made with fresh potatoes, tomatoes, and herbs from
Davit's garden-farm, we sketch out our plan for the day. We decide to first
visit a nearby Armenian church then move through the mountain villages to
Lake Dapadzghour.
When I ask if I can see the local Armenian school and speak with the
principal, Davit's response is a confused `no.'
`The principals at our schools won't speak the truth with you, they are
afraid of losing their jobs.'
`Varduhi was educated at Yerevan State University. She taught Armenian at
the local school here for 32 years and `they' dismissed her.'
`The children used to learn Armenian language, literature, culture,
history, there's none of that now,' says Davit, shaking his head.
The Georgian government has implemented a policy that has resulted in the
mass dismissal of Armenian teachers from the local schools and replaced
them with `Georgian language experts' from Tbilisi. Needless to say, these
`experts' are neither familiar with the culture and history of the Armenian
people, nor do they speak the language.
We jump in Davit's car and drive a short while up the mountainside to
Garmir Jham. Striking red in color, this small ruined Armenian church is
surrounded by lush green grass and tall trees. A narrow spring runs by. It
once brought fresh water to the now-destroyed village built around the
church. Directly opposite in the distance stands the proud Mt. Abul,
snow-capped and multi-peaked, it is Javakhk's tallest mountain.
`This church dates back to either the 11th or 13th centuries,' says Vahe.
`We're unsure but it's definitely architecturally Armenian.'
`The Lezgis [a Caucasian people] invaded in the 17th century and razed this
village to the ground.'
After refreshing with a cool drink from the cold spring we press on by
four-wheel drive, bouncing along the rocky road, toward Dapadzghour. When
Dapadzghour appears in the mountains, I understand exactly why Davit and
Vahe insisted I see this place.
On the narrow peninsula of a brilliant blue lake are the single-story stone
houses of Dapadzghour. The natural beauty is breathtaking. Quiet and
isolated it feels as though clocks tick just a little bit slower in this
village=85
But Dapadzghour has a secret: Just beyond the village passes the
Trans-Caspian Gas Pipeline. Built to transfer Azeri Natural Gas to Turkey
and beyond, this is the second piece of infrastructure we see that
intentionally isolates the Republic of Armenia. Apart from providing
employment to one villager, responsible for pipeline security, it has no
benefit for the local Armenian population of Dapadzghour.
The next morning, Vahe takes me to the Valley of the Kings where I become
witness to the rich history and culture of Javakhk. Following the road
along the river we see ancient Armenian churches and castles. But the
villages of this mountain pass are mixed; Georgians, Ajars, and Armenians
now live in this region.
It is here that we pass the torn up mountainside where Turkish companies
and workers are building hydroelectricity power stations. These projects
are not an initiative of the local Javakhk people, nor is there any
evidence that the benefits of this infrastructure will be enjoyed by the
locals.
Returning along the same river road we come to Akhalkalak, the capital of
Javakhk. A center for trade and culture, it is impossible for anyone to
deny the Armenian essence of this city. At one end of the small
*hrabarag*is a garden full of Armenian monuments. At the other end is
the 19
th-century Holy Cross Armenian Church and in the center stands a statue of
St. Mesrob Mashdots holding the 36 original letters of the Armenian
alphabet.
But all is not as it seems.
Only the old Soviet era street signs are in Armenian, the new ones are in
Georgian. Few of the street vendors have chosen to display new Armenian
shop signs; they have selected the Georgian script instead. The old
Armenian university campus is small and its expansion is impeded, while a
brand new multi-story Georgian university is being constructed just down
the road.
Evidently, Georgian influence is changing the Armenian character of
Akhalkalak and Javakhk.
As our time in Javakhk is reaching an end and we begin heading to the
Armenian border, I reflect upon the experience I've just had and the issues
that confront the Javakhk Armenians on a daily basis.
Javakhk's population is facing difficult socio-economic conditions. The
roads are of poor quality, there is little employment, and commerce is
limited. Added to this, the Armenians of Javakhk are being asked to forego
their native language in preference for Georgian; their schools no longer
give them the cultural education they are entitled to; and a whole new
generation is finding it harder to remain Armenian in a historically
Armenian populated region.
While a solution to the problems encountered by Javakhk's Armenians today
is a complex one, Davit provides some insight. When I ask him what would
make him stay here in Javakhk despite the hardships he faces, Davit says,
`We just need to be allowed to be ourselves and to have a greater say in
the decisions that impact us.'
From: A. Papazian
http://www.armenianweekly.com/2012/08/13/48-hours-in-javakhk/
Posted by Varant
Meguerditchianon
August 13, 2012
Much has been said about the need to help Javakhk, but little is known
about the realities and conditions under which the local Armenians live. On
a steamy June morning in Yerevan, I embarked on an unforgettable journey to
this region and among the courageous Armenians who call Javakhk their home.
[image: Garmir Jham 300x224 48 Hours in
Javakhk]
Garmir Jham
My guide is Dr. Vahe Sargsyan, historian, political analyst, and proud son
of Javakhk. I first met Vahe in 2007 during a visit to Armenia. At the time
he had just published his first book on the history of Javakhk. Now working
and living in Yerevan, Vahe regularly takes time off to visit his childhood
home in the village of Ghado and spend time with his elderly father Davit.
The journey through northern Armenia is long, and while the roads are worn,
the beauty of the green mountain landscape decorated with the purples,
reds, and yellows of wild flowers makes the trip enjoyable. The old blue
bus driving us to Javakhk is packed full of Javakhk locals heading home to
the cities and villages of their mountainous homeland.
The historically Armenian populated region of Javakhk is pinned between the
Georgian capital of Tbilisi, the Republic of Armenia, and Turkey. While the
exact number of Armenians living in Javakhk is not known, it is estimated
to be anywhere between 100,000 and 200,000.
It takes us five hours to reach the Javakhk border. The first town we pass
through is Ninotsminda. Founded by the Russians in the late 19th century
the former imperial border-town remains populated by Armenians. As we pass
through, however, we see little evidence of an Armenian presence. Not a
single street name, shop sign, or poster is written in Armenian.
>From Ninotsminda along the road to Akhalkalak, major construction is
underway on a new rail-line. According to Vahe the rail-line is part of the
Azerbaijan-Georgia-Turkey rail network, bypassing Armenia. Once complete,
the rail-line will cement Armenia's economic isolation. Equally concerning,
however, is the Turkish ownership of the infrastructure and the presence of
Turkish workers brought in to live amongst the Armenian population of
Javakhk.
[image: Dapadzghour 300x224 48 Hours in
Javakhk]
Dapadzghour
Further north as we draw nearer to Ghado, the asphalt turns to dirt. The
final few kilometers of rocky road lengthen our travel time quite
substantially. There is little Georgian government investment here in
Javakhk's northern villages, and this has a major impact on the economic
potential of the Armenian population.
In Ghado, Vahe introduces me to his father Davit who, despite his limp and
walking stick, attempts to carry my bags into his home.
Davit lives alone. His eldest, Vahe, is already spending most of his time
in Yerevan while his wife Varduhi is away helping their youngest son Gagik,
who recently found work in Russia. This is typical of the circumstances of
many. The limited commercial opportunities are leading to the depopulation
of the Armenian villages of Javakhk.
While having lunch made with fresh potatoes, tomatoes, and herbs from
Davit's garden-farm, we sketch out our plan for the day. We decide to first
visit a nearby Armenian church then move through the mountain villages to
Lake Dapadzghour.
When I ask if I can see the local Armenian school and speak with the
principal, Davit's response is a confused `no.'
`The principals at our schools won't speak the truth with you, they are
afraid of losing their jobs.'
`Varduhi was educated at Yerevan State University. She taught Armenian at
the local school here for 32 years and `they' dismissed her.'
`The children used to learn Armenian language, literature, culture,
history, there's none of that now,' says Davit, shaking his head.
The Georgian government has implemented a policy that has resulted in the
mass dismissal of Armenian teachers from the local schools and replaced
them with `Georgian language experts' from Tbilisi. Needless to say, these
`experts' are neither familiar with the culture and history of the Armenian
people, nor do they speak the language.
We jump in Davit's car and drive a short while up the mountainside to
Garmir Jham. Striking red in color, this small ruined Armenian church is
surrounded by lush green grass and tall trees. A narrow spring runs by. It
once brought fresh water to the now-destroyed village built around the
church. Directly opposite in the distance stands the proud Mt. Abul,
snow-capped and multi-peaked, it is Javakhk's tallest mountain.
`This church dates back to either the 11th or 13th centuries,' says Vahe.
`We're unsure but it's definitely architecturally Armenian.'
`The Lezgis [a Caucasian people] invaded in the 17th century and razed this
village to the ground.'
After refreshing with a cool drink from the cold spring we press on by
four-wheel drive, bouncing along the rocky road, toward Dapadzghour. When
Dapadzghour appears in the mountains, I understand exactly why Davit and
Vahe insisted I see this place.
On the narrow peninsula of a brilliant blue lake are the single-story stone
houses of Dapadzghour. The natural beauty is breathtaking. Quiet and
isolated it feels as though clocks tick just a little bit slower in this
village=85
But Dapadzghour has a secret: Just beyond the village passes the
Trans-Caspian Gas Pipeline. Built to transfer Azeri Natural Gas to Turkey
and beyond, this is the second piece of infrastructure we see that
intentionally isolates the Republic of Armenia. Apart from providing
employment to one villager, responsible for pipeline security, it has no
benefit for the local Armenian population of Dapadzghour.
The next morning, Vahe takes me to the Valley of the Kings where I become
witness to the rich history and culture of Javakhk. Following the road
along the river we see ancient Armenian churches and castles. But the
villages of this mountain pass are mixed; Georgians, Ajars, and Armenians
now live in this region.
It is here that we pass the torn up mountainside where Turkish companies
and workers are building hydroelectricity power stations. These projects
are not an initiative of the local Javakhk people, nor is there any
evidence that the benefits of this infrastructure will be enjoyed by the
locals.
Returning along the same river road we come to Akhalkalak, the capital of
Javakhk. A center for trade and culture, it is impossible for anyone to
deny the Armenian essence of this city. At one end of the small
*hrabarag*is a garden full of Armenian monuments. At the other end is
the 19
th-century Holy Cross Armenian Church and in the center stands a statue of
St. Mesrob Mashdots holding the 36 original letters of the Armenian
alphabet.
But all is not as it seems.
Only the old Soviet era street signs are in Armenian, the new ones are in
Georgian. Few of the street vendors have chosen to display new Armenian
shop signs; they have selected the Georgian script instead. The old
Armenian university campus is small and its expansion is impeded, while a
brand new multi-story Georgian university is being constructed just down
the road.
Evidently, Georgian influence is changing the Armenian character of
Akhalkalak and Javakhk.
As our time in Javakhk is reaching an end and we begin heading to the
Armenian border, I reflect upon the experience I've just had and the issues
that confront the Javakhk Armenians on a daily basis.
Javakhk's population is facing difficult socio-economic conditions. The
roads are of poor quality, there is little employment, and commerce is
limited. Added to this, the Armenians of Javakhk are being asked to forego
their native language in preference for Georgian; their schools no longer
give them the cultural education they are entitled to; and a whole new
generation is finding it harder to remain Armenian in a historically
Armenian populated region.
While a solution to the problems encountered by Javakhk's Armenians today
is a complex one, Davit provides some insight. When I ask him what would
make him stay here in Javakhk despite the hardships he faces, Davit says,
`We just need to be allowed to be ourselves and to have a greater say in
the decisions that impact us.'
From: A. Papazian