My tatik beats me…and I like it!

When I decided come live in Gyumri and leave Yerevan and its big city lifestyle like I was used to having in Montreal, I was a little uneasy. The thought of leaving my comfort zone and all my volunteer friends behind was not simple. But am I ever glad I made that choice because I have found a true Armenian treasure I would not have discovered otherwise!

It goes without saying that the scenery in Gyumri is breathtaking – Every morning on my crowded (to say the least) marshutga (minibus) ride to work I see a clear view of snowy Aragats, and if the air is clear enough, I have Mets Massis peeking up to say hello. And the rolling hills surrounding the city just add to its natural beauty. The view from Gyumri’s Mother Armenia beats that of Yerevan’s, hands down, any day. And the old village here is eerily beautiful. Although the damage from the earthquake is clearly visible, it adds a certain beauty and unmatched charm that I have yet to find elsewhere in Armenia, and maybe even in the world! No, the treasure I talk about is nothing of all the beauty visible to the human eye! The beauty I have found is in the heart of the people here, and more specifically, the women of Gyumri.

I live with a host family where 4 generations of women, and 2 men, share their lives with me everyday. These 5 women have welcomed me into their homes, their lives and hearts as if I have known them for my entire life – and I feel like I have! My tatik talks to me about her chickens; she even took me to see them on a few occasions. We watch her soap operas together (and I try to understand the Portuguese/Italian that is still audible). With my host-mom, I share recipes and cooking tips. Well actually, she gives me her recipes, she prepares the meals, I eat them, and eat some more, then she pulls her “Eli ger” and I do! It’s great…especially for my figure!

My host-sister Lena brings her friends over almost every evening. We all spend hours talking, laughing, singing (while Sona, her friend, plays a tune on the instrument of the day – your pick of Guitar, Piano, flute…) A great way to lose all those calories from the meal(s) of the hour. I have never learned so much about life here as I have from these young ladies. They live in a completely different world than I do, with different values and moral standards, yet I fully understand them and love their way of thinking! They are true revolutionaries in their own way.

Then, there are Ana and Goharik, my other host-sister who is married and her 3-year old daughter. They are over every night and that’s when the party starts…again. Usually, when I come home from work, Goharik is already there, waiting to run to me for a big hug. All my thoughts disappear with her kaghster paddouk. Then, we play games together, with her imaginary friend Mala, I feed her (because it’s the only way she’ll eat) and then she puts on a song and dance show for everyone! Ana talks about her day, gives me more recipes, asks me questions about Montreal – she reminds me incredibly of my aunt, it’s scary yet even more welcoming!

In the short 5 weeks that I have spent with my family, I have grown so close to them. I’m no longer a volunteer living in their house, but a member of their family in our home. Recently, I had to go work in Yerevan for a week and upon my return, I got a beating (a gentle and funny one) from my tatik. “Vay aghchik, Hiripsime (their other volunteer from this summer) never left us for so long. You’re not allowed to ever leave again, understand!” Oh Tatik,yeghav, I won’t leave again!

Again, just yesterday, I called my mother - my other mother that lives in Montreal, to tell her I’m still alive, when Goharik picked up the phone and said to my mayrig, in her little Armenian voice: “Parev, my name is Goharik, Carine can’t come back to Canada because she’s not allowed to leave me. She’s my sister now.” Ok Goharik, I’ll stay!

This sweetness doesn’t exist only in the women of my home; I witness it everyday on the marshutga, in the streets, in the shugas. When I get into the 14-person marshutga and we are 25 people in there, a woman will always scoot over to give me an inch of seat to “sit” on. In the streets, if I’m not wearing a scarf, a woman (or 5) will always tell me to cover myself so I don’t catch a cold. In the shugas, the women will grill me with their 5000 questions, ask me if I want to marry their son/nephew/neighbor/brother/grandfather, then graciously offer me fruits when I refuse. I think the fresh air in Gyumri make these women as sweet as they are.

At first, when other Depi Hayk volunteers told me to go to Gyumri, I thought they were trying to get rid of me (though they swore it’s because it’s great here). I am so happy I came because had I stayed in Yerevan, never would I have experienced all of this. Never would I have met these incredible women, heard their stories and shared their lives. Everyday, I am extremely thankful that I left busy, crowded, noisy Yerevan to come to Gyumri where my tatik beats me and my little sister holds me hostage. I wouldn’t want to have my Armenian experience any other way.

Carine Liberian (Canada)
AVC volunteer and BR/DH participant