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Shishkert: A shining light in a `lost' land
http://armenianow.com/society/features/48646/armenia_migration_azerbaijan_border_shishkert
FEATURES | 22.09.13 | 22:35
NAZIK ARMENAKYAN
ArmeniaNow
By GAYANE MKRTCHYAN
ArmeniaNow reporter
The horizon holds abundant forest and blue skies. A gorge, like a
wedge, divides the forest into two parts. Similar-looking redish tufa
houses can be spotted on one side. In the settlement embraced by the
woods like an island in the sea, serenity reigns with the undisputable
authority of a monarch. Knocks on the door remain unanswered - no one
to hear them - no adults, no children, no cheerful screams of
excitement in the yards. Only the river flowing in the depth of the
gorge, some stray dog barks every now and then, and the buzz of bees
challenge the otherwise solid silence...
In the distance one can spot beekeepers, wearing all white clothes and
special net masks to fence from stings. I stand far from them and have
to shout my questions, then strain my hearing to catch the answer:
`They made it so that this village vanished from the map, but I will
continue living here, proving that the village exists. And I am
Lavrenty Grigoryan, 68 years of age.'
On my way to the village, our group of reporters was taking pictures
and placing on Facebook right away, with a comment that we were in
Shishkert, however the Google maps would automatically change it to
Azerbaijan, regarding our post erroneous. Perhaps that is the reason
why Shishkert, indeed cannot be found on the map of Armenia, or maybe
because the name of the village derives from Turkish `sis' meaning
`six'.
The beekeeper's story repeats the life tale of hundreds of Armenians,
with just different names and residence addresses: their children have
left, his wife and he remained at their home and will continue
staying. He says they have no community and that they got merged with
the neighbor Tsav community, 12 kilometers away from Shishkert. To the
question where the other residents of the village are, Lavrenty says
with a smile: `Search and you might find.'
Shishert is a village with a rich historic past, vague present and no
future prospects. Locks on abandoned houses are the most common site
here. But it is hard to lock the hearts of those 18 residents
stubbornly refusing to leave their homes. The only child here is
two-year-old Hayk. The village has no shops and no school. A bumpy
dirt road leads to the settlement. As if to compensate, people here
are of strong will, rich in heart, fighters by nature. They survive
due to livestock breeding and field work. The climatic conditions are
quite favorable for animal husbandry, which the Soviet Union took into
consideration in choosing the direction of development.
`This is a splendid village, 50 km from Kapan, the farthest by
location. There are six villages from Kapan till here and ours was the
best - it was the remotest and the biggest, with pastures, haylofts,
developed sheep breeding. We had 12,000 heads of sheep during the
Soviet times, and more than 150 households, with no less than three
children in each family,' recalls mathematician Ishkhan Galstyan, who
at his time moved to Shishkert from Yerevan.
Wrinkles on his face turn deeper when speaking about losing the village.
`Back during the tenure of Nadir shah people of this village were
driven away to Persia [modern day Iran], but they came back, recovered
the settlement. Last time it happened in 1800s, and now the village is
destroyed in broad daylight,' he says, putting out another cigarette
in the ashtray.
He lives alone. His sons have left the village, and a while ago his
wife passed away. He leads me to the basement to show the accurate
rows of books he has read and keeps with great care. When seeing me
off he apologizes for having talked too much and says: `For days there
is no one to talk to.'
Shishkert is under the supervision of Tsav village head. For shopping
they again have to go to Tsav.
`The village had over a hundred households, and over the recent years
some 18 or 19 families used to live in the newly-built houses, but
they, too, have left. There is no school, so partly they leave because
of that, others to find jobs. Slowly there is almost nobody left, no
village. It's only this few of us,' says Hmayak Galstyan from
Shishkert.
The five families live like one. Day or night, they come to one
another's help and say their home is Shishkert.
Among the members of the five families 60-year-old Valya Balayan is
the most stubborn. She has married-off her daughters, but keeps living
here together with her husband and three sons. She won't let her
children leave for Kapan or Yerevan, or abroad.
`I won't let them leave... why would I send them to Russia leaving our
land and water. They now force foreigners to leave Russia. Let Serzh
(President Sargsyan) do something, look after our youth, I will wed
them, they'll have families, children, a school would open, a shop
would open, why leave when they can live in their homeland? If they
move to Russia, who is going to work our land, protect our border, if
something happens now, won't my three sons be the first to go?' says
Valya with both pride and frustration.
Rebelling against the idea of moving to Tsav, she says her home is here.
Years have emptied the village, but the five lights scattering the
obscurity of the night, lighting an uncertain future for 18 residents
prove that there can be heroes outside a battlefield or on the border.
http://armenianow.com/society/features/48646/armenia_migration_azerbaijan_border_shishkert
FEATURES | 22.09.13 | 22:35
NAZIK ARMENAKYAN
ArmeniaNow
By GAYANE MKRTCHYAN
ArmeniaNow reporter
The horizon holds abundant forest and blue skies. A gorge, like a
wedge, divides the forest into two parts. Similar-looking redish tufa
houses can be spotted on one side. In the settlement embraced by the
woods like an island in the sea, serenity reigns with the undisputable
authority of a monarch. Knocks on the door remain unanswered - no one
to hear them - no adults, no children, no cheerful screams of
excitement in the yards. Only the river flowing in the depth of the
gorge, some stray dog barks every now and then, and the buzz of bees
challenge the otherwise solid silence...
In the distance one can spot beekeepers, wearing all white clothes and
special net masks to fence from stings. I stand far from them and have
to shout my questions, then strain my hearing to catch the answer:
`They made it so that this village vanished from the map, but I will
continue living here, proving that the village exists. And I am
Lavrenty Grigoryan, 68 years of age.'
On my way to the village, our group of reporters was taking pictures
and placing on Facebook right away, with a comment that we were in
Shishkert, however the Google maps would automatically change it to
Azerbaijan, regarding our post erroneous. Perhaps that is the reason
why Shishkert, indeed cannot be found on the map of Armenia, or maybe
because the name of the village derives from Turkish `sis' meaning
`six'.
The beekeeper's story repeats the life tale of hundreds of Armenians,
with just different names and residence addresses: their children have
left, his wife and he remained at their home and will continue
staying. He says they have no community and that they got merged with
the neighbor Tsav community, 12 kilometers away from Shishkert. To the
question where the other residents of the village are, Lavrenty says
with a smile: `Search and you might find.'
Shishert is a village with a rich historic past, vague present and no
future prospects. Locks on abandoned houses are the most common site
here. But it is hard to lock the hearts of those 18 residents
stubbornly refusing to leave their homes. The only child here is
two-year-old Hayk. The village has no shops and no school. A bumpy
dirt road leads to the settlement. As if to compensate, people here
are of strong will, rich in heart, fighters by nature. They survive
due to livestock breeding and field work. The climatic conditions are
quite favorable for animal husbandry, which the Soviet Union took into
consideration in choosing the direction of development.
`This is a splendid village, 50 km from Kapan, the farthest by
location. There are six villages from Kapan till here and ours was the
best - it was the remotest and the biggest, with pastures, haylofts,
developed sheep breeding. We had 12,000 heads of sheep during the
Soviet times, and more than 150 households, with no less than three
children in each family,' recalls mathematician Ishkhan Galstyan, who
at his time moved to Shishkert from Yerevan.
Wrinkles on his face turn deeper when speaking about losing the village.
`Back during the tenure of Nadir shah people of this village were
driven away to Persia [modern day Iran], but they came back, recovered
the settlement. Last time it happened in 1800s, and now the village is
destroyed in broad daylight,' he says, putting out another cigarette
in the ashtray.
He lives alone. His sons have left the village, and a while ago his
wife passed away. He leads me to the basement to show the accurate
rows of books he has read and keeps with great care. When seeing me
off he apologizes for having talked too much and says: `For days there
is no one to talk to.'
Shishkert is under the supervision of Tsav village head. For shopping
they again have to go to Tsav.
`The village had over a hundred households, and over the recent years
some 18 or 19 families used to live in the newly-built houses, but
they, too, have left. There is no school, so partly they leave because
of that, others to find jobs. Slowly there is almost nobody left, no
village. It's only this few of us,' says Hmayak Galstyan from
Shishkert.
The five families live like one. Day or night, they come to one
another's help and say their home is Shishkert.
Among the members of the five families 60-year-old Valya Balayan is
the most stubborn. She has married-off her daughters, but keeps living
here together with her husband and three sons. She won't let her
children leave for Kapan or Yerevan, or abroad.
`I won't let them leave... why would I send them to Russia leaving our
land and water. They now force foreigners to leave Russia. Let Serzh
(President Sargsyan) do something, look after our youth, I will wed
them, they'll have families, children, a school would open, a shop
would open, why leave when they can live in their homeland? If they
move to Russia, who is going to work our land, protect our border, if
something happens now, won't my three sons be the first to go?' says
Valya with both pride and frustration.
Rebelling against the idea of moving to Tsav, she says her home is here.
Years have emptied the village, but the five lights scattering the
obscurity of the night, lighting an uncertain future for 18 residents
prove that there can be heroes outside a battlefield or on the border.