As Chopin, Mozart, and Beethoven tickled the air, brilliant streams from synchronized spouts dazzled the enlarging evening crowd around Republic Square in the heart of Yerevan.  The sticky day cooled to comfort, and red jeans, high heels, and meticulously applied make-up finally made sense.  The first night, we were lucky foreign observers sipping beer on the portico of the History Museum of Armenia.  The second, after stumbling around with no destination in mind, we realized the mundane nature of the nightly affair hadn’t unsettled its spectators and shouldn’t disturb our enjoyment. 

Armenia has an absurd history of conquest, war and national pain, torn apart by conflicts among Persia, the Ottoman Empire, and Russia/USSR, and devastated by a WWI-era attempt at genocide by the hands of the Turks.  Yet the perseverance, determination, and optimism of the people, along with the hyper-developed and financially-supportive network of diasporans, demonstrate the power of the Armenian national soul. 

The Envoy Hostel in Yerevan is one of a handful of its kind in the Caucus region.  Its staff speaks many languages, is quick to help, and offers free daily walking tours of the city.  Arriving “on business” with American Councils, a seemingly household name around town (or as ACCELS, our predecessor in the region), I was treated exceptionally well.  Several of the staff were alumni of our programs and the head of the marketing department was a good friend of our office director. 

The most scintillating aspect of travel is the people met along the way.  Meeting fellow staff who enacts some of the very programs I worked to secure funding for this past spring (FLEX, JFDP) was a highly-anticipated joy of the trip.  Similarly, engaging in conversation with several alumni of our programs offered the chance to see tangible effects of the government’s (and therefore taxpayer’s) generosity.  The success stories are moving and inspiring as these dynamic young leaders continue down their chosen paths with a positive frame of reference toward America, and drawing from vast knowledge and skills learned through their exchange and study experiences.

Concurrently, the itinerants, who happened to be parked for the week in the only city I visited, were enjoyable companions.  From the hitching, couch-surfing duo, to the Aussie and Dane headed to Iran, and the North Carolina Armenian-descendant with relatives in the area seeking to recoup some of his heritage after a divorce, I reveled in exchanging stories of travel, love, good governance, and superior social policy.  I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy at the Danish model, where university starts later in life and summers are supplemented with governmental money for travel.  Their language skills and cultural acumen were staggering. 

Yerevan is full of Soviet-era structures and a lingering sense of oppression and dependence flutters within the hope and dynamism of the new era.  High in the hills overlooking the main street which boasts his name, an enormous statue of Mashtots (the creator of the Armenian alphabet) appears to a novice as Lenin or Stalin may have before they were torn down – big brother watching over the workers.  Many projects in the city were expansive and overly-optimistic works accomplished (or not quite finished) through Soviet funding (and now in many cases with money from the diaspora).  One example is the “Cascade” that was created by promising the Soviets that they would include an ode to the importance of Moscow vis-à-vis the 15 republics, in the form of a series of springs with each linked to the one symbolizing Moscow in the middle.  Another funny story is how the subway was built in Yerevan, according to my tour guide.  During one of his visits to the city, Brezhnev was frustrated with how long it took for him to get anywhere in his car.  When he returned to Moscow, his first order of business was to authorize funding for Yerevan to create a subway.  What he didn’t know was that the leaders of Yerevan slyly slowed and stopped traffic in front of Brezhnev’s car whenever he tried to go anywhere in the city.  It’s a testament to the way Armenians made the best of the situations within which they found themselves. 

Yet, while there were many successes, it seems, as I viewed during my time in Morocco, that many projects are undertaken without a realistic plan in mind.  They are gigantic undertakings that may or may not get finished, but include frequent stops during the building process and/or inept plans for upkeep due to lack of funding.

Finally, the Sergei Parajanov house-museum offered my first glimpse of the creativity and dynamism that ran counter to the cultural oppression of Soviet times.  His haunting works of cinema, structure, and collage, were intensely unique and striking displays of self-expression.  Producing such work under the conditions in which he lived illustrates the need for humanity to express and the fearlessness that wraps a soul when the reality of the alternative is contemplated.  For his genius, he spent five years in one of the worst Soviet detainment centers and moved from country to country in the region before laying to rest in Yerevan.

-Bart-