I had a very emotional day today...I don’t really have the words to explain or describe what I felt like. But I will share the thoughts I did have throughout my visit to the Ruins of Ani...

The stone in my country sprouts flowers. From the ruins of buildings and unfinished renovations come the brightest green plants I have ever seen. So vivid that it makes the cement its backdrop, like all that you should be looking at is the life of the plants not the wreckage of the buildings. The tatiks (grandmas) with their silver hair, heavy bottoms, and concerned smiles carry this country on their backs everyday...holding the hands of their grandchildren through the shopping shukas, through the villages, and on dirt roads that lead no where. The children who have such hope in the eyes but at the same time have the weight of the world on their shoulders because they won’t ever really understand who Mickey Mouse is or they might have not had food to eat for two days. The water that cleans, protects, and drowns. The music that makes you clap and makes you smile all while wanting to cry.

This is my country. These are my flowers, my broken building and hearts. My tatiks and papiks. My mothers and fathers, my brothers and sisters, my children. This is my country. This is my rain, my blood, my dirt. These are my smiles, my tears, and my pride. This is my bread, my doodook, my heartbeat.

It kills me to know that this is my country and I have not been here, I have abandoned it for so long. It kills me that the young men here have to leave the country in order to find work leaving behind their mothers, sisters, and daughters. It kills me to know that that earthquake hurt people I now love. It kills me to see a place once so precious to my country just 20 meters away and completely untouchable. It kills me that the children won’t see Disneyland. It kills me that my tatiks walk dirt roads with pounds of wheat on their backs. It kills me that my church had a Turkish flag raised in it. It kills me that it hurts this much. I breathe here. I live here. I am here.

Sevanna Naaman (USA)
AVC Volunteer and BR/DH participant