I am back home, and yet again my life is flying by at lightning speed. My two and a half months in Armenia passed by quickly yet at a much slower pace. I miss the ability to take in every moment.

I was born and raised in Canada, but every aspect of my life has been Armenian since the day I was brought home from the hospital. If anyone were to experience an identity crisis it would have had to be me; a Canadian citizen, my birth certificate states that I am Quebecoise yet my whole life I have been raised an Armenian. Every morning, from the age of two and a half until high school graduation, I boarded a yellow school bus and made my way to the doors of Ecole Armenienne Sourp Hagop, my home away from home. My schooling and my education incorporated Armenia in everyway possible way.  Armenia was such a large part of my life yet it was a distant world. Now, at 22, I had to see it for myself.

My stay in Armenia has been filled with a lot of love and a lot of food. It seemed as though my family thought I was a starved child seeing food for the first time. They then admitted that sending back a skinny girl would be a dishonor to Armenia for the country is rich with fruits and vegetables and the freshest meats in the world. One of my fondest memories is the party in my honor of my long awaited first visit to Armenia. My favourite moments where spent on a balcony and on step stools in front of front doors. I found another home, new sisters and brothers in my cousins, and many friends. I found it all in Armenia.

I went to Armenia with two goals; to help and to explore. I am leaving Armenia with a sense of understanding. The stories and the legends that have been taught during Armenian classes now make more sense to me. Let me explain how it all came together.

Though in another land, Ararat accompanied me to work every morning from Dimitrov Boulevard in Etchmiadzin to Mashdots Avenue in Yerevan. He was a loyal friend, who showed me its many sides, with a new story to tell me every day. Riding in the mashrootka (minibus), I could not look away from the majestic mountain for fear that it would be my last time, yet every time I would look out the window it was as though I saw it for the first time.

A red door was my gateway to the energized world of the Armenian Tourism Development Agency. Each individual more talented than the next, I came to realize how dedicated my colleagues are to making Armenia’s voice be heard around the world. Using my skills and knowledge to complete my work has given me a sense of accomplishment, which is compensation enough. Yet, whether it was writing a fund raising letter for a festival, creating a project budget or debating over structural and design layouts for a website, every task I have completed has been rewarded by a thank you. Simple gratitude has shown me how my work here has helped. I now better understand our people’s dedication and perseverance to survive and to succeed.

My travels through Armenia have revived my imagination and each childhood history lesson played out like a movie in my head during the last two and a half months. From the pagan rituals performed at Garni to soldiers making their way up the rocky mountain cliffs of Jederdouz during the liberation of Shushi, I have come full circle and have been sitting in an Armenian history class throughout my whole journey. While taking in the view of Ani, a few words of wisdom were spoken aloud behind us "We have Ani in front of us, out of our control. Behind us we have our nation, our own land. We are not able to touch Ani, but we are able to help our country. Think of the future, never forgetting the past and what we had". I now understand the importance of the work we, as volunteers, are doing in our homeland. It is work dedicated to those who gave their lives, to the lands we have today, to Armenia and Artsakh.  Diaspora Armenians and Local Armenians working together, no matter what our jobs are, we are all leaving a tiny footprint in Armenia’s history. We are making history.

I am now sitting in the comfort of my own home, but my memories will stay with me. Everything has left an everlasting imprint in my mind, from the yellow chairs around our conference table to the mashrootkas on the streets, from the crowing rooster in the morning to the sweltering sun in the afternoon, from dusty streets to ancient lands and from new friends to family kefs. 

Christina Manoukian
AVC volunteer and BR/DH participant