Notes From Hairenik

An Armenian Chihuahua

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 22:39:00 +0000

Several months ago I had promised to buy Anush my wife a dog. Preferably it had to be small and manageable since we live in apartment (although it’s rather spacious). She prefers small pets, the smaller the better in fact.

At first she wanted a Pekingese, which is what her family owned when she was growing up. But when I expressed my displeasure in the idea, since I think they resemble skittering mops with punched-in snouts, she backed away from the idea. There was discussion about keeping a Labrador Retriever as well. My family back in Boston has kept two Labs—the black one we have now is 12 years old suffering from arthritis and total deafness. One of Anush’s cousins promised that they would give us their puppy, which was nearly completely white in color, but that fell though when they abruptly traded it with a shop owner for merchandise of some sort. Then I thought having a Dachshund would be great but she wasn’t crazy about that option.

A cat was certainly out of the question since I find them to be too independent, moody and unpredictable. Besides, there are too many feral cats running around the city, more than enough. They’re good for catching and eating rats as I have personally witnessed, so at least they serve a valiant purpose.

Due to various circumstances we ended up indefinitely postponing the acquisition of a dog. That is, until three weeks ago.

Our first stop was the Vernisage where many small dogs are plentiful at an average price of $200, including certification paperwork and vaccinations. However, depending on the breeder they are not necessarily well cared for. I’ve seen one woman for instance picking up her puppies for sale by the neck rather than under the front legs across the chest, so that was a discouraging sign. Another woman had several breeds of puppies all wanting out of there cramped cardboard box to go home with someone. There were two Dachshunds too, one of which took an active interest in us but Anush refused to pick her up. She already had a Chihuahua in mind, the smallest dog breed in the world. Since we didn’t find any there and would not ever, we walked away.

Chihuahuas are difficult to find anywhere, let alone Armenia. But Anush's mother knows a pet store owner who has contact with an experienced breeder of Chihuahuas, located in Yerevan’s Erebuni district near the “auto market (avtoshuga) of all places. We were able to get his number and arrange a time and place to meet. He had three puppies to show us.

That same afternoon we met the breeder, Armen, at Karekin Njdeh Square. In a small dog carrier made of heavy blue cloth that he held by one hand was a Chihuahua mix. It was only a few months old and belonged to a friend of his. The puppy was shaking a bit, which apparently is normal for a Chihuahua regardless of whether it is feeling a chill or is simply excited. I inspected the dog and found several small scabs in the back of his ears and what appeared to be bite marks at the tips. She was adorable, but I didn’t recommend that Anush to consider taking it home, and Armen also discouraged her. We asked to see his own puppies, so we sat in a Lada 2107 taxi driven by an absolute lunatic and were off.

The very second after Armen opened the door to his single-level house about 20 small dogs charged at us, all of them frantically excited and yapping. There were several Chihuahuas of various sizes (a difference of perhaps only a half-inch in height and length at the most), at least three Shitzus and one or two Pekingese. It was so chaotic in there that I couldn’t actually get an accurate count. One of the Chihuahuas, a pint-size guy (the father of the puppy we now own), was frantically barking at me, while two larger black ones were licking my hands with their miniature tongues enticing me to caress them. Eventually every dog there took turns to greet us at some point.

Two female puppies were available from two different mothers, with about a four-week age difference between them. The shade of the one that Anush chose, the younger of the two, reminds me of cappuccino, although her coat color is identified as “cream” in her “passport.” It seemed odd to me that at only three weeks both Chihuahua and Lab puppies are nearly identical in size and general appearance. The puppy, who we named Chi Chi, was understandably very reserved at that time, but after finally bringing her home on Friday we soon realized how rambunctious and crazy she can be when she feels like it. This afternoon she had a sparring session with the knuckles of my right hand. She repeatedly leaped onto my hand to gnaw on my fingers and joints, and she was really biting down at one point. I found that by closing my hand it was more of a challenge to grab hold of something and the experience wasn’t as painful. Yesterday she started barking a little bit and sort of growling when she was trying to play rough… hilarious.

Chi Chi loves to be cradled in someone’s arms. Her favorite sleeping position seems to be across the shoulder--she bolts up my left arm nearly every time I place her in my lap. Per Armen’s recommendation we are feeding her basic vittles for now—shredded boiled chicken breast along with the broth and non-fat cottage cheese, which Anush has been hand-feeding her. We’re trying to figure out the right time to start potty training—she’s small and it’s getting fairly chilly outdoors, so we don’t want her to catch cold, since they cannot tolerate windy weather well. For the time being we make sure Chi Chi scoots towards the linoleum floors in the foyer and kitchen when we sense that it’s time.

We’ve already checked out four pet supply stores in central Yerevan. They are all tiny but the selection varies from one to the next. Today I purchased a special dog carrier imported from the US --a pink braided cotton basket lined with a fine mesh that we’ll use to tote her around in easily since she’s too tiny to be walked on a leash attached to a suitable harness. We’re hoping she won’t mind it—she hates the cardboard box that we lined with blankets and old shirts for her to sleep in. The last two evenings she cuddled up to Anush in bed under the covers, and they slept that way all night. I’m hoping that’s only temporary….

Meschian Performs at the Opera House

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 22:30:00 +0000

Tonight Anush and I saw Artur Meschian perform in the Opera House, in Spendiaryan Hall. It was the second performance in a series he will give as part of a comeback tour. He was in Moscow a couple of weeks ago playing there in a packed concert hall, and he’ll be off to Los Angeles before long. A second Yerevan show is scheduled for Tuesday night at the Karen Demirchian Sports Complex. He last performed in 2006, having played in Gyumri, Vanadzor and Yerevan at the Opera House once again.

Meschian had his usual band with him, with the superb drummer Levon Hakhverdian, Arthur Molitvin, who is hands down the best electric bassist I’ve heard in Armenia, and Meschian’s disciple Vahan Ardzuni on rhythm guitar playing just beside him. Unfortunately, due to scheduling conflicts Ara Sarkissian was not onstage to play keyboards, and for me at least it felt like something was missing as the last three times I saw Meschian perform Ara was in the band. Very few people, Ardzuni among them, can fully grasp the nuances and intricacies of Meschian’s music—Ara was around when Meschian was writing and recording most of it while he was living in Boston, and Ardzuni of course grew up learning and playing alongside him. The musician standing in for Ara, Madat Avanesov, was certainly capable enough on the synths but it wasn’t a perfect fit, it didn’t always sound right the whole time, often yielding a muddled sound. He is one of these performers who after every 24 bars or so has to dramatically lift his hand high off the keyboard to show that he’s doing something. Ara was missed, but it didn’t detract from the intensity of the performance. At one point I saw two young woman during the show’s second half shouting out the words and dancing in the aisle to the far right of the hall, not far from we were sitting. Both of them were in the zone. They were just doing what the remaining uptight audience members should have been. After all, he’s a rock musician.

The music was fantastic as it always is. His voice sounded better than I have ever heard, very natural and vibrant, and it was obvious that he has been practicing. He stuck to acoustic guitar and left his own keyboards at home—the duels he had with Ara on stage are long gone. Aside from his usual repertoire which he’s performed at the other shows I’ve attended he debuted two brand new, yet to be identified songs to his audience, one of them being a fast tempo blues played in a way only Meschian could. The second song, which closed the show, was as dramatic and powerful as could be expected, with the chorus being a simple blaring, drawn out cry of “Hey!” as if to awaken the world with his message.

It was a remarkable concert for sure, but my favorite is still the one he gave by invitation only at the Gomidas Chamber Hall back in November 2005. It was the first time either of us saw him play live. Anush and I were both there, but we didn’t know each other at the time or hadn’t even seen one another. Neither one of us will ever forget that extraordinary, intimate performance.

Of all the tunes in Meschian’s catalog only one of them is a love song. The lyrical themes of his songs are philosophical, even poignant, laced with psychological angst, and, sometimes they issue a plea for caution. “Where Can You Escape From Yourself,” and “The Rest Is For Sale / In This Godforsaken World” are lyrics that come immediately to mind. There’s a tinge of turmoil and certainly a fair amount of dismay expressed his songs—two of his best are titled “I Am Amazed” and “I Am Crazy… Maybe.” And he’s always trying to let his listeners know that something isn’t quite right in the world. When you first hear the lyrics the message doesn’t immediately sink in, it is absorbed very slowly over several years of listening to the music. Each time I hear his songs—the same that I have heard hundreds of times—I learn something new, I realize the underlying meaning of a passage that I had previously just skipped over in my mind again and again. And most of his listeners arguably don’t fully comprehend what he is singing about. It’s what makes him a genius of modern Armenian song.

Paying Taxes In Armenia

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 07:07:00 +0000

I just published an entry on the Footprints blog about how to go about making tax payments in Armenia. The process is fairly straightforward in my experiences with paying vehicle and land taxes. Unfortunately, not enough people are doing the same.

Here's an excerpt:

So long as you pay some kind of tribute to the authorities, you can basically avoid having to pay taxes on your earnings. Virtually all of these oligarchs and big businessmen are able to get away with it one way or another. Some even report losses to avoid paying them. It’s just small businessmen and ordinary citizens that are essentially required to pay.

You can read the entry in full here.

Katuner at Stop Club

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 06:50:00 +0000

Last night I took some friends who just arrived from the States to Stop Club, which is located on the corner of Tumanyan and Moscovyan Streets, to see the "jazz-fusion" band Katuner, lead by Vahagn Hayrapedyan. It was their first time seeing the band, and I can't even count the number of times that I've heard them perform over the last few years. They always put on a fantastic show.

The term "jazz-fusion" has traditionally been used to describe any music that blends jazz with motifs of rock music. But in all honestly, I don't feel comfortable placing that label on Katuner's music because I think it's unclassifiable. Miles Davis was the first to mesh the two genres in the late sixties by incorporating electric guitars, pianos and basses into his arrangements. Katuner on the other hand uses mainly acoustic instruments, with an electric bass and a battery of synthesizers that surround Hayrapedyan used to compliment them. Last night, however, a young guitarist from the Boston area sat in with the band.

Influences of Monk, Miles and Mingus are recognized in the compositions by people who know the music of these legends, with subtle hints of Armenian harmonies weaved in to the songs' melodies. As far as I am aware, all compositions performed are originals written by Hayrapedyan, and each of them is phenomenal in intensity and drive to lure in the listener into his world.

Katuner seems to be his main artistic outlet which Hayrapedyan uses to best convey the intent and meaning of his work as a premier musician in Armenia. As I've noted on this blog in previous posts, Hayrapedyan is undoubtedly the best jazz piano player in Yerevan and he regularly plays around town at places like Poplovok with a bassist and drummer performing mainly jazz standards. He also plays with the Armenian Navy Band.

Katuner incorporates mainly instruments that are typically associated with jazz--trombone, trumpet, saxophone. Familar faces in the band are trumpeter Tigran Suchian, bassist Artyom Manukyan and David Minasian on trombone, all of whom perform with Nooz. Norayr Kartashyan plays various wind instruments, including soprano saxophone, zurna and another long, thin metal instrument that resembles a flute in sound but air is blown to the side of the mouthpiece, not directly into the instrument. I didn't have a chance to ask him what it was, unfortuantely. Hayrapedyan plays various keyboard instruments, on which he manages to create uniquely weird, cosmic sounds that always tend to make me smile. In all, eight musicians managed to cram into a tight space on the lower level of the club where the "stage" is found. I don't know how they managed but it didn't affect their playing one iota.

The band just released a new CD called "Red Sun" and played three shows at Club 12 to celebrate the occasion. You should be able to find it in music shops in downtown Yerevan, but as far as I can tell it's not yet available for purchase online.

More about Katuner can be read on their MySpace page.

Photos of Katuner and Vahagn Hayrapedyan courtesy of Katuner's Albums.

Hey Jan, Ghapama!

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 20:54:00 +0000

While growing up my father used to occasionally break out into song. You never knew what he was going to start singing, there was no lead-in humming or forewarning. From time to time we would here him blare out (transliterated), "Hey jan, ghapama! Hamov, hodov ghapama..." This translates as, "Hey, dear, ghapama! Delicious smelling ghapama..." When I finally asked him several years ago what ghapama actually was, he replied, "Ghapama is... it's ghapama, I don't know..."

He first heard the song on a Soviet-era record he had purchased in Beirut of music from Armenia, mostly folk songs and some instrumental pieces. Several years ago I ran across the exact same recordings on CD. One of the songs was "Ghapama," and I understood why he took such a liking to it since the melody is very catchy and the guy who's trying to entice listeners to eat the ghapama sounds very jovial but ancient, too, like he's singing with toothless gums. The song is actually hilarious, I'm not going to pretend otherwise.

Naturally during my travels in Armenia, whenever I bothered to remember I would make inquiries about the significance and meaning of "ghapama," in other words what it was and how I could eat it, assuming it was a food. Most of the time I was met with shrugged shoulders and bewildered faces. Very few people actually know what it is.

Finally I asked my mother-in-law a few months back if she happened to know what ghapama was, having remembered my interest in it when I glanced through an Armenian cook book that was lying on the table. She said she had never eaten it but only knew it involved a pumpkin and rice. She didn't know exactly if they were mated with one another, or eaten separately or anything else about whatever it was supposed to be, but she recalled seeing a recipe for it in the book and promised she would prepare it for me some day.

To my surprise that day came on Friday. She placed on a dish a quarter portion of a pumpkin, which had been roasted in an oven, filled with a pilaf of short-grain rice, cinnamon, sliced apples, raisins and dried apricots. She cautioned me before I sampled it that she made it according to the instructions and didn't improvise, so if I didn't fancy the ghapama it was not the fault of her cooking.

I didn't know what to expect of it quite honestly, I figured it wouldn't be very tasty, rather bland and lacking pizazz. I grew up eating various varieties of squash prepared in different ways, baked, boiled, even sauteed. My grandmother used to make pumpkin pie once a year, and I always seemed to enjoy it. So I delved into the ghapama without further thought of her warning and was rather pleased, it was light tasting and delicate. The pumpkin flesh was naturally sweet and supple, and the pilaf with the swollen, warm white raisins was fantastic. Simple food, that if prepared properly (and most of the success was due to the quality of the pumpkin, undoubtedly) can be quite satisfying.

Too bad no one knows what the hell it is.

Photos by Gohar Khachatrian

Still Waiting For Change

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 06:53:00 +0000

I’ve been back in Yerevan for about 10 days now, observing society from afar. I say that because my day job precludes me from cruising around the city, trying to figure out how people are getting by.

There’s one observation that is unmistakable. Two clearly distinct Yerevans exist—central or downtown Yerevan and the other districts as one entity. With each passing day the disparities between the two realities are more noticeable and pronounced. The fancy clothing boutiques and posh “lounges” as trendy restaurants are called here are on the rise, while Armenia is supposedly suffering from an economic “crisis.” Construction of “elite” apartment buildings is going strong despite reports in the news that the sector is in a slump.

There’s no telling where the hundreds of millions of dollars (amounting to well over $1.5 billion!) entering Armenia in foreign aid from the IMF, European Union and Russia will go. Apparently much of it is going to boosting the country’s cash reserves and trickling down to the banking sector which will provide loans to businesses, but when someone (without connections) applies for a loan the funds are supposedly unavailable to them.

RFE/RF reported yesterday that the “crisis” has hit the allocation of social services and thus pensioners will have to continue contending with the meager pensions they receive. Part of the foreign aid could easily have been redirected to boost the social security funds—the EU recently pledged to allocate $149 million to Armenia as an “anti-crisis” safeguarding measure, despite a statement made by Armenia's Minister of Finance on October 9 that Armenia would not seek new loans. It wouldn’t take much to do so. Pensioners could for instance do much better with a $100 monthly stipend in place of the $68 they are currently getting. That’s still not a lot but it sure is better than what they’re getting now. Since they would have more money to spend they would in turn assist in helping to boost Armenia’s “struggling economy,” but it seems the government authorities believe otherwise.

The way I see things, people who are unemployed can’t find jobs because there aren’t enough opportunities for them and weren’t to begin with, even before the “crisis” hit Armenia. Or, they are simply too lazy to work, which is not an exaggeration. Farmers are struggling not because they don’t till the soil and yield high-quality crops, but because they fail to turn a profit due to corporate greed, being forced to accept abnormally low prices offered to them by canneries, wineries and distilleries. The young sons and nephews of men in roles of power and influence earned though government connections are doing just fine with handouts or salaries presumably being paid to them for doing very little related to this or that enterprise they are connected with.

So as long as people can afford to put food on the table, own a car and have at least one phone (I know at least three people who find it necessary to have two lines—for instance, one for messaging and another for making and receiving calls) there won’t be any calls for social reform or regime change by any means. With the exception of pensioners who don’t receive stipends from relatives working abroad, people seem to be living well. The food markets and stores are thriving because people need to eat and have the money to eat well. Only the poor and downtrodden, who had long ago met their fate before the “crisis” plagued Armenia, are struggling, and they will continue to struggle so long as job opportunities for them remain out of reach. And an opened border with Turkey is certainly not going to help them, not when the Armenian government continues to stall in promoting investment in the regions of Armenia. It’s just going to make the rich even wealthier.

I don’t know what else to say about Armenia's socioecomonic situation. It seems like I keep repeating myself. Nothing is really changing for the good. It may appear so on the surface, but I really think most people particularly those living in the “other Armenia” outside of Yerevan are going to struggle, no matter whether anti-crisis measures are implemented or not.

One Step Forward

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 06:21:00 +0000

Late Sunday evening I returned from a two-week stay in Greater Boston to see my family and friends. Actually most of my time was spent with my brother and parents, who recently retired. It was great catching up with everyone and enjoying the brisk autumn New England weather that I have missed.

But the first day back in Yerevan has been a bit problematic for me when returning from the last two visits to the States. All day Monday I mingled very little with co-workers while trying to recuperate from pronounced jetlag. I was also suffering from a mild form of culture shock as I did when I arrived in March from the previous 14 day-long visit. The contrasts of sights and sounds is becoming a little too much to bear it seems as time moves on. In America everyone seems to wear bright, lively colors and clothing is contemporary in style compared with the dark and drab garments people wear throughout Armenia. It’s not their fault of course; there’s not much of a selection in the marketplace. But it’s still disappointing to see people who always seem to be dressed for attending a funeral at a moment’s notice. I didn’t want to venture into the market to buy fresh fruits and vegetables while strolling along rows of vendors, all of whom beckoning me to try a slice of apple or persimmon in the hopes of buying a kilo or three. I didn’t relish passing by men with three day-old beards selling farm-raised carp and trout on the sidewalk, impeding foot traffic. And I didn’t want to hear cheesy Armenian pop music being blasted from mediocre underpowered speakers on the sidewalk. I was still in zen mode, spiritually enjoying the tranquility of our quiet neighborhood back home.

One thing that is certainly noticeable however is the virtual absence of jaywalking on the streets of Yerevan. From what I have seen in Central Yerevan and on Gomidas Street nearby the open market in the area where my workplace is located, pedestrians are crossing only in designated crosswalks or underpasses. There are always a few exceptions to the rule of course but they seem to be few and far between. It is amazing to drive in front of the Gomidas market where a bus stop is located on both sides of the street and not have to worry about slamming into someone who doesn’t have the sense to cross the road in a way that is not potentially risking his or her life.

This surprise started in the beginning of October, when traffic police started cracking down on people jaywalking by threatening anyone who crosses dangerously with a fine. The police started writing down the passport numbers of people who were caught in the act, and now most everyone seems to be playing by the rules.

This of course means that society is moving forward by obeying the law. The absence of law and order that many have complained about to me is the fault of the violators themselves I have often argued. Corruption and disobedience starts from the bottom up, not the other way around as many seem to think here. At least that’s my opinion. You can’t complain about the absence of justice if you do not respect it, but that’s what society often does here. They don’t demand justice, they simply criticize without getting anywhere. But the end of jaywalking is certainly something important to observe and admire. It means people are starting to wake up and realize that society has to advance, people have to be more civilized.

I can only hope that Yerevan residents do not regress to their old ways and continue to cross the street without endangering their own safety and that of motorists as well. Bravo to them.

A Visit to Zorats Karer

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 05:49:00 +0000

On our way to Meghri last weekend Sergey and I stopped off at Zorats Karer, also known as Karahunge or the "Armenian Stonehenge," since it's only a few minute drive off the main road.

The location is just north of the town of Sisian, in the Syunik region. Upper Syunik is one of my favorite parts of Armenia for driving. The road cutting across the plains is mostly straight, while the landscape is all green and mostly flat with small, rolling hills along the way. In the distance in all directions are snow-capped magnificent mountains. It's a stunning area.

According to the new, very helpful information plaques that have been placed on site, anthropologists and historians seem to believe that Zorats Karer, which dates back several thousand years, was some kind cosmic observatory, which makes sense since the sky is quite wide there. Triangular shaped stones about four to seven feet high lunge out of the ground in a spiral formation. Most if not all of the stones have a hole about four to six inches in diameter pierced through them.

Also on site is a mound with a pile of flat, reddish stones. Some scientists believe that it is a burial ground which was at one point excavated and looted. Others think that it had no significance whatsoever, so it's left to the beholder's imagination to figure out what it could have been.

There are also some rock lined, rectangular-shaped pits about six feet deep which may have been dwellings I am guessing.

Zorats Karer is a site that any tourist or native to Armenia should see, if not for studying prehistoric history, then to experience the grandiose, breathtaking scenery of the Syunik plains. I must have visited the site four or five times, and I continue to be amazed with each visit.

Photos by Christian Garbis

Return to Meghri

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 13:40:00 +0000

Last Saturday I drove down to Meghri with Sergey, which is only a few kilometers from the Iranian-Armenian border. Sergey had never been before so I volunteered to take him there. It was my first visit to Meghri since my previous excursion there four years ago.

Meghri is in a valley, with high, steep flanking slopes. A river runs through the center of town, creatively named the Meghri River. It is situated approximately 600 meters above sea level.

Nothing has changed much in the town, which I suppose is good in some ways since life hasn't been adulterated. There are some modest construction projects, but nothing out of the ordinary. People still earn a living by working their plots of land and selling the fruits from the trees that grow on them, namely pomegranates and persimmons. Current prices fetch around 800-1,500 dram ($2.10-$3.80) for a kilo of pomegranates and about 500 dram ($1.30) for persimmons. Figs are also in season fetching around 300-400 dram a kilo. But the juice-making factories are paying only 130 dram ($0.35) a kilo, so I don't know how most people are able to make out financially. Most certainly no one is paying a mortgage on the house, so at least that's not a burden to bear.

To make ends meet, some families rent out rooms in their homes. There are several Bed and Breakfast options available in Meghri, a couple of which I found on a Web site called B&B Armenia listing affordable accommodations throughout the country. We stayed with Misha Azatyan, who is the deputy director (demoted from the position of director with the change in administrations) of the music and cultural center there. Their home was more than I expected--extremely clean and very comfortable. We were served supper and breakfast, along with all the figs and grapes we could manage to cram down our throats and unlimited coffee/tea. They even gave us a few kilos of persimmons and figs to take back with us. In the morning I was able to take a great hot shower, something that is greatly appreciated in rural parts of the country. Misha and his family were extremely hospitable, and he was very responsive to the thousand questions we posed to him about the economics, politics, industry, agriculture and mindset of Meghri.

In the photo below Misha, on the right, is showing Sergey his potted lemon and grapefruit trees.

Despite the superb, homey accommodations, I couldn't manage to sleep very well. That's nothing out of the ordinary for me when I am out of town actually; it's always tough for me to sleep somewhere other than my own bed. And seeing as I didn't bring my laptop with me, I couldn't write either, at least nothing very important.

On Sunday we drove around a bit before heading back to Yerevan. Sergey wanted to see the Araks River, which serves as the line of demarcation between Armenia and Iran. The river, which is legendary in Armenian folklore, is rather narrow and milk-chocolate brown in color. It's nothing remarkable to gaze at and reflect upon.

We also visited Agarak, which is basically right on the border, in search of pomegranates but we were turned down by everyone we asked. The people there are not as friendly as those are in Meghri, that's for certain. It seemed too much of a bother for anyone there to make money from our lust for noor.

Meghri is where it's happening. It's a gorgeous, but sleepy town, very green obviously considering that it is the pomegranate center of the universe.

There are three churches in that small town, the only one of them working being St. Astvatsatsin. The entire interior of this 17th century church, which was not built with the iconic Armenian architectural style in mind, is adorned with fresco paintings depicting various stories from the Bible. The ornamental motifs of the paintings are clearly influenced by Persian decorative designs, which was probably done intentionally to prevent vandalism. Even the depicted structures were drawn in such a way as to resemble mosques. A domed church just a stone's throw away from Misha's home is in severe disrepair and has apparently become a sort of garbage dumpster from what I was told. I didn't investigate for myself.

On the way back to Yerevan we decided to travel along an excellent new road connecting Meghri to the north end of Kapan that was just constructed--I think it was unveiled last year. Most of this road actually existed in another less-traveled form, as we determined from the ancient, abandoned villages as well as a church we came across. The part of the road from Meghri into the mountains located behind the left side of the town is about 20 or 30 kilometers long, perhaps more. That entire stretch was lined with craggy, crumbling cliffs and hills, with no vegetation of any kind. And there were no cars on the road at all, which was eerie. It seemed as if we weren't about to reach the top after a while, especially when the fog rolled in. After we crossed over the peak of the mountains we were caught up in thick fog, but it cleared up after about 20 minutes or so. As soon as it dissipated we were amazed by the forests of the Shikahogh Reserve we found ourselves in the midst of. Soon we reached civilization--a few small obscure villages with odd names that have probably been there for centuries, one of them called Tsav, which just happens to mean "pain" in Armenian. We stopped just outside of the village to pick rosehips and wild blackberries--fun to do but nevertheless a bit hazardous with the thorns prickling you every time you reach into the bramble.

It's odd that Meghri is not frequented often by tourists, particularly Armenian ones, since it is such a lovely, laid back and picturesque town. Misha told us that this year his business has been especially slow. Finding accommodations in Meghri is certainly not a problem with a simple Google search. Strange that the Armenian tourism industry didn't exploit the pomegranate consumption craze in the US by luring people to go down there. Pomegranate and persimmon trees abound--every single home in Meghri has them growing in the yard, along with figs, grapes, even kiwis.

Ideally, autumn is the best time to go there--the weather is quite warm and humid as well. But plan on being in Meghri for at least two days to understand what paradise in a landlocked rocky country is really like.

Photos by Christian Garbis

Opinions About Armenian Politics

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 06:21:00 +0000

The Armenian Weekly just published an article that I wrote about the current political climate in Armenia, which I ordinarily do not discuss on this blog, and I mention what the Armenian opposition is doing (or rather not doing) about stopping the protocols.

I have been trying to refrain from focusing on political issues on this blog because I wanted to get away from politics here, redirecting readers to my other blog, Footprints, which is sponsored by Hetq Online. But I will just mention here briefly that I think the protocols are detrimental to Armenia's statehood and the future of the Armenian nation for several reasons.

In any case, if Armenian politics doesn't bore you, please read the article and check out Footprints. Feel free to write whatever is on your mind either for or against the protocols in the comments section below.

Faster Internet at Home

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 08:20:00 +0000

On Saturday I finally made the leap to invest in "fast" Internet access from home. As anyone who has worked in Yerevan knows, Internet can be painfully slow in Armenia and at times unreliable, although connectivity has become more stable of late.

For years I was using a Beeline dial-up connection, which has become progressively worse especially in the last six months. Simply opening the Notes From Hairenik blog could take three minutes or more, depending on the connection speed and traffic congestion. I've also been able to use fast wireless connections off and on during the last five years by picking up WiFi signals in Yerevan. An office across the street had an open wireless network that wasn't password protected and Anush and I were able to tap in successfully by placing our laptops on the window sill--until it went offline about two months ago. Many Yerevan cafes and restaurants offer free WiFi service but I've never tried it since I prefer not to lug my laptop around when walking across town.

The problem with home ADSL or even cable connections in Armenia has always been price. Costs vary depending on connection speed naturally and even download limitations--many services cap out download data transfers at 1GB per month, and if you go over that limit the Internet service provider adds an extraordinarily high price tag per downloaded megabyte.

Beeline (formerly ArmenTel) offers Internet access starting at 8000 dram ($22) for a 128 kbps download speed (upload is 64 kbps, something to do with server overload issues--I heard that uploads are conducted via a pricey satellite link), which is considered a very good rate. Compared with rates in the US where you can get a line with a speed of 1 mbps for the same price, their cost of service seems absurd--then again, this is Armenia. But because their network is so jammed and their resources are tied up, Beeline will not service homes or offices in Yerevan that have six-digit phone numbers starting with "54," so we were out of luck.

Another Internet service provider in Armenia named iCON Communications just started offering wireless Internet access at virtually the same rates for residences and offices alike. The only difference is that iCON employs a new revolutionary wireless technology called WiMAX as a long-distance data stream medium rather than relying on conventional telephone landlines, as DSL employs. WiMAX allows for "broadband" Internet access remotely from various districts in Yerevan where transmitters are situated. They gave us a wireless desktop modem to use--other alternatives include a PCMCIA slot modem for laptops or even a USB stick modem, which means you can access the Web from anywhere in the city where a signal is detected. The modem they lent us with a required deposit fee works like a DSL modem in that you need an Ethernet cable to connect to your desktop computer or laptop--mine being a MacBook Pro and Anush's an Acer.

When powering up the modem for the first time it takes about 10 minutes or so for it to hone in on the signal. Once the green LEDs tell you that you have a full reception, you're pretty much set to go. We had to activate the service on our end using a username and password via a Web browser and that was it.

The next step is to buy a wireless router to set up a WiFi network in our apartment so we can get online from any room. As things stand now we're taking turns checking e-mail, connecting to the modem with a 5-meter long cord that I am bound to trip on, klutz that I am. But seeing as routers sell for around $70 and up for discontinued models in Yerevan computer stores, I'm most likely going to purchase a current model at half the price and bring it back with me on the next trip to the States.

Web services are expensive in Armenia because Internet access is for the most part still a monopoly controlled by Arminco/Beeline. But Vivacell offers 3G Internet connectivity for compatible wireless devices, and it's just a matter of time before the French telecommunications company Orange starts to offer services in Armenia with its own 3G network. So Internet prices are bound to fall, but the question is how low.

Happy Independence Day

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 11:53:00 +0000

My plan was to write a short message in celebration of Armenian independence day accompanied by a photo of flying tri-color national flags or kids waving them in hand, but I couldn’t find any, save for some small faded striped squares hanging from wires supporting the electric trolley lines on the main avenues in downtown Yerevan. I find it bizarre that there are virtually no visible signs that Armenia is celebrating its 18th year of independence in the capital. There will be some sort of musical event this evening it appears on Republic Square judging from the stage being erected, and there’s bound to be a fireworks show, which I suppose is fine for young and old alike. But to see no flags flying anywhere is quite strange, especially at main intersections where traffic is notably high.

In any case…

May the Republic of Armenia prosper, self reliant and financially sound, with secured borders on all fronts. May its territorial integrity never be compromised, with stable, controlled access to points east and west under its own sovereignty. Here’s hoping for a steadfast, illustrious future for its citizens with the integrity of their statehood intact, their heads held high and proud that they as a nation are in control of their own destiny and prosperity. Let Armenians earn the justice they rightfully deserve, refusing to succumb to pretensions that they can only survive while reliant on the disingenuous overtures of its immediate mendacious neighbors.

Let Armenia be.

Avoiding Armenian Mafia Life

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 04:49:00 +0000

As a follow-up to a previous post on my blog about the Armenian mafia culture and the "Mafia Complex" that I noted back in March, I can say that despite the economic downturn that has hit most of the world during the last 12 months, the supposed "financial crisis" that Armenia has been suffering from is not apparent, namely in central Yerevan. Construction is continuing despite a reported downturn. The number of luxury SUVs and brand new Japanese passenger cars that are sold in dealerships established here is ever increasing. And the emergence of young whippersnappers (aka, the Apero) acting tough and racing their cars dangerously, especially in the evening when traffic is light, is more prevalent than ever before. Meanwhile upscale clothing stores, gift shops and trendy posh restaurants keep opening. All this while the socioeconomic conditions in the regions is ever stagnating.

So what is being reported by the Central Bank of Armenia at least once a month doesn't correspond with reality. Due to the generosity of Russia and the World Bank close to $1 billion in foreign aid has already entered the country, so you can just imagine where some of that cash is going. And people love the mafia shows (namely "Vorogayit" and "Gyanki Kinuh," or the "The Price of Life")--they're even shown in some cafés.

So this is the reality here, and if you live in the midst Armenian society you just have to become accustomed to it by not letting it get to you. There's really nothing that can be done about the transformation of society and the uppity, haughty attitudes that some people have towards others nowadays. This wasn't the case just a few years ago, but now that people have more money to spend and are able to do "European remodeling" in their homes, they are forgetting their roots. Some are unfortunately not as down to earth as they once were.

Obviously you can't simply stay indoors to avoid mingling with these types. If you enjoy socializing and dining out, I recommend going to laid-back places like Pub Che, which can't be rivaled in terms of informality, The Club, Gusto, Café Central and Karma, a pretty good Indian restaurant. If you are looking for more lively atmospheres you can't go wrong with Stop Club, where you can hear great jazz, blues or rock on a nightly basis, and Red Bull pub, both of which are on the intersection of Moscovyan and Tumanyan Streets. All of these establishments are not frequented by people suffering from the Mafia Complex because they can't relate with the vibe and the more cultured clientele. Stop and Red Bull also practice face control. At another bar called Texas, the management keeps the door continuously locked and you have to ring a buzzer for them to let you in. It's bizarre, but it works for them and their customers.

So my advice to repats and expats wondering what the hell is going on in Armenian public life is to simply ignore what they see or hear. Go out and have fun, and don't let anyone spoil your mood.

Getting It Wrong

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 06:04:00 +0000

Former Armenian Foreign Minister Vartan Oskanian has written an excellent article, which eloquently summarizes the perils of the protocols slated to be signed by Armenia and Turkey in about five weeks. It appeared on the Web site of The Civilitas Foundation, which he founded. I have always respected Mr. Oskanian for his tireless efforts in determining the best solutions for regional stability that would be in Armenia's favor, not against its interests. He is certainly light years ahead of his successor, Edvart Nalbandian, who every day is incrementally demonstrating his incompetency and reckless nature.

Here's some snippets:

Even when signed, these protocols merely tell us Turkey’s willingness to enter into diplomatic relations and to open the border. The open border will become reality only after eventual parliament ratification.

But whether ratified or not, Turkey will still have received what it wanted. When signed, this protocol gives Turkey the opportunity to tell the world that Armenians have in fact conceptually relinquished territorial claims and are also ready to offer the genocide for bilateral study, therefore no third-party involvement, recognition or condemnation is in order.

***

However, an equal risk in this document is the unwritten one. The link to Nagorno Karabakh. Unwritten perhaps, but clearly spoken at every turn are the repeated, continuing, unabated, undiminished affirmations of the highest Turkish and Azerbaijani officials who insist that Turkey will continue to defend the interests of Azerbaijan and nothing will be done, no border will open, until the Nagorno Karabakh settlement process begins to move in a direction that suits Azerbaijan.

You can read the entire article here.

Protocols For Diplomacy Between Armenia and Turkey

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 10:18:00 +0000

On Footprints, a blog about Armenian news and issues sponsored by Hetq Online, I’ve published my thoughts and opinions about the protocols that are anticipated to be signed by Armenia and Turkey in about five weeks. Regular followers of Notes From Hairenik can already guess that I am not happy with the provisions of the protocols and the negative implications they will undoubtedly have for Armenia if they are ratified. You can read my critique of the first protocol here and the second protocol here.

Meeting Iain Dale

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 13:10:00 +0000

I just came back from a intimate meeting of bloggers hosted by the British Council at its offices here in Yerevan. They invited me and about 10 other Armenian bloggers to chat with author Iain Dale of Iain Dale's Diary.

Iain's blog mostly presents his opinions and insight on British political news items, so I am unfamilar with most of the topics that are covered there unfortuately. It was a pleasure hearing what he had to share with us about his own experiences with blogging since 2002, and it was great to be part of an exchange between fellow Armenian bloggers for sure. There hasn't been many opportunities for me to actually see other bloggers based in Armenia mainly due to lack of time so it was well worth going there to meet everyone.

If you happen to be fascinated by political events, rumors and gossip in the UK, you should definitely check out Iain's site if you haven't already--it can be found here.

In The Jermuk Mountains

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 06:44:00 +0000

Last Saturday I travelled to Jermuk with my friend Karen and his father, also my proxy dad, Sergey Minasian. Karen's cousin on his mother's side, who's named Sako (a substantial young man), also came along to lead the way to his brother's camp high in the mountains above the resort town of Jermuk, located in the Vayots Dzor region in southern Armenia.

The winding dirt road starts from downtown, near the "Mayr Kordzaran" mineral water bottling factory. It leads to the largely symbolic metal statue of a deer (since they've all but disappeared from the area, most likely at the hands of poachers) that overlooks the town, then continues onward. The farther you go up, the more precarious the road becomes. This is strictly a 4 x4 road, as you need a substantially large, powerful vehicle to trek up the mountain. No ordinary Lada can manage. My Niva was adequate, but a Vilis is the most suited vehicle for these types of roads where asphalt was never laid. At certain points it was necessary to take detours since the surface was less perilous, but only slightly. Many spots of the road were mired with thick, deep mud pools in which some rather large rocks were completely hidden. I managed to land the bottom of my Niva on one hard despite driving at a turtle's pace. During the journey we crossed three mountain spring brooks and struggled through several fields of rocks. It was an amazing, thrilling experience. I don't remember ever breaking into a sweat while driving anywhere before that day.

We finally made it to the camp about 40 minutes later from the foot of the mountain--a gruelling 8 kilometer ride. The moment we arrived we all realized that the struggle was worth it, as you can imagine from the photos.

Sako's brother, Valodya, has been tending sheep for about 10 years, mostly in the Jermuk mountains. He tends to 600 sheep with some hired hands to assist him. Six dogs, all Kampers, are always on watch for intruders, and at night they keep the wolves at bay. He has four donkeys, one of them only a few months old, to haul equipment and supplies and at least two horses for nimble transportation. He's only 31 years old, very enthusiastic and optimistic. He loves what he does and can't imagine doing anything else. Home is a gigantic canvas tent, in which they all eat, rest and sleep. A woman looks after them and makes sure they're well fed. There's a gas stove for cooking and a wood-burning stove for keeping warm and heating water in a tank that holds about 40 liters. In another month they will start making their way to the Ararat valley on foot with the sheep to keep them in a shed. The sheep will start mating soon, and lambs will be born at the beginning of the year.

Just before we arrived with kilos of eggplants, peppers, tomatoes and watermelon along with six bottles of vodka, some beer and Fanta, they had already slaughtered a young sheep for us, half of which was barbecued in our presence while the other half was stewed for several hours. Nearby is a spring where all the washing is done and drinking water is fetched. The water was pristine and very cold, enough to cool down the watermelon and beverages just fine. Naturally we ate very well. Sergey and I were very moved not only by their hospitality but with the fervor and persistence they worked in tough conditions. They are real, hard-working men dedicated to the land.

When it was already time to head down the mountain Sergey pleaded with me that Sako take the wheel, since he supposedly had a better command of the roads and is an "expert Niva driver," whatever that means. We were on our way to a outdoor hot springs bath, hidden in a gorge between two high, craggy forested hills. The road is indeed rough going, but Sako decided to drive as slow as a snail. Painfully slow. There wasn't a need since the Niva easily cruised over many the rocks at 5-10 km an hour when I was driving up, but for him, the slower, the better.

Before we left Sergey asked about 10 times exactly how far the hot springs were, and he was always told that it was "right there" as they pointed far into the distance. We found out nearly an hour later that "right there" meant about 10 km over rocks, rivers and mud. Valod and three of his sheepherder neighbors led the way on horseback while we crawled along behind them. As we made our descent into the forested gorge we found it was nearly impossible to go. At one point the rocky road was intercepted by tiny streams of water. Then we came upon two rivers, one of which we managed to make it through, while the second one was way too deep, with a depth of several feet so we parked the Niva and continued on foot. (I tested the depth by simply wading in the water and immediately ruled that it was impassable.) To cross that river it was necessary to step over a series of stones at a narrow part that I found several feet to the left behind some trees. At the one that followed I simply walked across, although my jeans were soaking just below the knee. The others naturally made it across on horseback without difficulty, taking Sergey and Sako along with them. I've never ridden on a horse in my life and was not about to learn that day.

The treacherous trek turned out to be worth it. Just last night while reminiscing with Sergey he concluded that the water must have been at body temperature, because we didn't feel hot nor cold while in the water. It made sense, because the temperature was indeed perfect. There is a natural shallow tub formed over the course of possibly hundreds of years from mineral deposits that can comfortably accommodate four people. Into the tub flows a steady stream of mineral water bubbling from a hole beneath the rock formation there. Every six minutes or so water under high pressure gushes upward, with a jacuzzi-like effect. The water was a bit salty and metallic tasting, very similar if not identical to the water you can drink at the public fountains in the center of town. There were tiny chunks of mineral deposits floating in the water, and when I emerged I realized that I was lightly covered with them. We realized just how cold it was out there while we were struggling to put on our clothes as quickly as possible.

On our way back I managed to slip on a stone in the middle of a shallow river and fell on my left side. Luckily I wasn't injured except for a minor scrape on my ankle, but half of me was completely soaked. Then I noticed that my trusty Austrian walking shoes that I had purchased 10 years ago from the Tannery in Harvard Square were disintegrating (a master shoe repairman in Yerevan subsequently managed to bring them back to life). I shrugged it off and kept walking because I didn't care. We all wanted to be there, but we also had to make it back to the city.

I began to panic that we had already burned most of the gasoline in the tank and the sun had already gone down. But later when we reached level ground I realized when looking at the gauge that we had at least 15 liters left in the tank, more than enough for a 100 km long ride. Sako got us out of there and then down to the Jermuk reservoir. We said our goodbyes and gave thanks to our hosts before we descended. It was a remarkable, emotional and adventurous day that will always remain with me.

Photos by Christian Garbis

On Lake Sevan

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 07:25:00 +0000

It is said that Lake Sevan, located about 50 kilometers north of Yerevan, is the second highest body of water above sea level in the world, at an altitude of 1,900 meters (or 6,233 feet). The air here in the Gegharkunik region is certainly thinner than in the city and naturally, incomparably cleaner. In the sun much of the lake appears teal blue in color, and depending on the beach you visit the water is crystal clear.

This year has been an unlucky one for summer vacationers in Armenia because of a persistent cold spell, which only becomes milder rather than dissipating altogether. Then it gains strength once again bringing torrential rains along with it. The cycle repeats over and over—a most unusual summer. Thus, Sevan’s waters are not as warm as they ordinarily are for this time of year. Mornings and early evenings tend to be breezy, but the winds are very light, almost caressing.

The Tufenkian Avan Marak Tsapatagh hotel seems to be on the surface chiefly constructed of stone, wood and steel. Even the furniture is made of steel with a gun-metal finish. The entire place has a rustic, rugged and worn feel, with the stone walls and smooth brick floors. A hardwood bench topped with hand sewn cushions wraps around the corner of the front and right-side walls of the double rooms. The colors chosen for the décor are all earth tones—wheat, walnut, roasted red chili, pine, dark plum and wet clay. The shower area is completely lined with blocks of stone that are colored varying hues of green. The spray of the invigorating shower is wide under high pressure, and yields a warm feeling of solace in its wake. The evening lighting complements the décor—mellow and unobtrusive. It is also an eco-friendly hotel, with a sign in the bathroom asking guests to reuse towels, soft fluorescent lighting illuminating the corridors and solar heating panels affixed to the roofs.

In my previous post I declared that the Tufenkian hotels scattered mostly across the northern regions of Armenia were the best in the country. This quiet, tranquil resort, perched on an incline about 500 meters from the shores of Lake Sevan, is proof positive of that. As a special promotional offer, Anush and I stayed there for two nights at a rate of 28,000 dram per day, including three meals, and took advantage of the amenities it offers, such as a private beach, swimming pool, hot tub and sauna. With the exceptional, hospitable service, divine comfort and scrumptious meals, it simply cannot be beat.

Tsapatagh along with other nearby villages on the northeast side of Sevan are lined with tall poplar trees, which provide the ideal windbreak. The garden of each home seems to be overrun with fruit trees and garden crops of some kind. Apple trees thrive in this climate. Some sour cherry and plum trees are also found. There are also patches of cabbage and sunflowers in some gardens. A shepherd sets his sheep out to pasture in the field laced with tiny wildflowers to the left of the hotel. There are rare species of birds in this particular area of varying sizes and plumage. It seems that certain birds tend to thrive in their own special environments, depending on where you go in Armenia you will see unique birds that you have not run across elsewhere, even 20 kilometers away from a particular location.

There is an excellent, expansive view of Sevan—to the right is the Shorja peninsula and on the left side is the shoreline of the far south. It appears as if the entire length of the lake is in full view, and with your outstretched arms you can symbolically embrace it. Also in magnificent sight is the Geghama mountain range, on the other side of which lies the Ararat valley. On a clear day when you gaze out on the lake from the viewpoint of the village you can see the miniature summits of mighty Mount Aragats on the horizon.

The best way to enjoy Lake Sevan is to avoid the tourist areas and trendy beaches, all of which are located on the northwest end of the lake, known as Pokr Sevan, or Small Sevan. These places are primarily located in the vicinity of Sevanavank, the two ancient churches perched on the hill there. But remember that in the off-season there are very few people there—it’s virtually deserted, so it’s best to see the monastery in the spring or autumn. Travel round the lake at the village of Dzovakyugh. If you drive another five or 10 kilometers on that road you will find plenty of accommodating rest areas, some of them including cottages, and clean beaches frequented by less people. Once beach I recommend is called Sojiner. Along the beach is a tiny forest of pine trees, in which picnic tables are provided. Walk 50 feet to the shoreline and take a swim in the near pristine water. You won’t find hardly any litter there.

It should be mandatory that all visitors to Armenia go to Sevan. From Yerevan it’s only a 45 minute-long drive. There’s really no excuse not to see the lake at least once in a lifetime.

Photos by Christian Garbis

In Lori

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 10:52:00 +0000

The steep hills of northern Lori are carpeted with rich, pristine forests of oak, maple, walnut and countless other deciduous species. Rivers and seasonal rains in tandem help irrigate the soil and provide the proper conditions for regeneration. The farther north you drive, so little the landscape changes. The hills turn into mountains of modest heights. On top of them may be flat, grassy plateaus laced with wildflowers. The road that leads north cuts through a narrow valley that only expands in earnest in Alaverdi. If you decide to continue your journey toward the Georgian frontier the hills gradually become lower, but they ascend upward in the distance in a wavy pattern that induces a feeling of tranquility upon the beholder. Lori is a paradise for any lover of nature, particularly of thick, thriving forests.

Indeed, I have visited few places in Armenia that have given me such peace and warmth as northern Lori. To get there you must travel through Vanadzor via Spitak or optionally Dilijan, although that route is longer. The stretch of road from Yerevan to Spitak through Aragatsotn is a two-lane highway which has some bends and deceptive crooks but is more or less wavy, with some straightway sections of road. Once you cross the Lori border, however, you enter a new world of valleys and seemingly endless slopes. The road that descends towards Jrashen and onwards to Spitak has a few hairpin curves but the scenery is breathtaking, especially in winter when the hills are blanketed with snow. For nearly 50 minutes you drive just below the base of the magnificent Mount Aragats crowned with four peaks on your left. You will pass through several Yezidi villages along the way, namely Ria Taza, Alakyaz and Jamshlu. The plains of Aragatsotn just north of Aparan are expansive and nearly seem endless, until you drive another 10 kilometers and the landscape transforms. Most of the ride is a wavy, twisting journey as is the case anywhere you venture in Armenia, save for the Ararat valley, which is the flattest area of land in the entire country.

Even in the midst of summer Lori can be quite cool. Then again, this year’s summer months have been quite unusual to say the least. Yerevan has been haunted with rains and chilly evenings for months, as if the spring never ceased. The air in Lori is never still, there are always lovely, inviting breezes to flirt with you, they manage to entice a smile from the roughest looking visitor.

Our destination was the “Lori Rest House,” which is located not far from Vahakni in the obscure village of Shahali. Anush had been there twice before and recommended that we stay there, which I was enthusiastic about doing. To get there while driving north towards Alaverdi we turned right at a sign marked “Gugark Children’s Camp” to cross a short bridge over the Debed River. Having past the camp’s entrance on our left we continued along this steady uphill road, which was for the most part eroded and at some places very rough going. After about three kilometers we arrived at the compound, a five-story “rest house,” which is a leftover Soviet term for a modest, no-frills hotel. The place was completely surrounded by steep forested slopes. There were all sorts of trees in the area, some of which must have been deliberately planted. One tree on the grounds resembled a Japanese maple for instance. The river Dzoraket runs through the area, and the climate was very humid, although not as high as it is down in Meghri. The place was simply gorgeous, and as soon as I arrived I was inclined to stay for days. The rooms were small but clean, unpretentious with bare walls, and two narrow separate beds. The bathroom was in immaculate condition, as the place was recently renovated. I couldn’t manage to join the beds for my wife and I to sleep together because of their awkward design and their sturdy wood construction. Shortly we arrived I crashed for about 30 minutes having been intoxicated by the fresh, fragrant air. It makes you drowsy periodically throughout the day and the frequent need to nap is futile to resist. We laid down together snugly on one of the beds without turning up the wool blanket which was folded lengthwise. By evening I realized that the bedding was reeking with the pungent stench of mold. It wasn’t until I was actually trying to sleep that I gathered how strong it was, it was deep-rooted in the bedding. The smell kept me awake, so I was obliged to hit the carpeted floor wearing jeans and a light cotton sweater to keep warm with a folded towel under my head. The next morning we persuaded the housekeeper to show us another room across the hall, but although the blanket and bedding seemed odor free, the box spring thoroughly smelled musty. It is with much regret that we couldn’t stay there longer simply because my allergies could not cope. In the presence of mold my sinuses start to fill up and my throat feels like it is closing ever so slightly.

The “Lori Rest House” is a wonderful place to relax—there are no tourists and virtually no “rabiz” people there to spoil your spirits. One person pays 8,000 dram a night ($22), and the price includes three meals. Unfortunately, we alone, apart from the other guests that didn’t seem to number more than 50 in total, were unlucky with the accommodations, otherwise we would have stayed there for several days. Despite my experience I recommend the “Lori Rest House,” but with reservations.

A word of caution—if you have an aversion to mold, ensure that the bedding of any hotel you visit in Lori smells fresh. Unfold then shake out the blanket and sniff the pillow as well as the mattress for any hint of must before you pay for the room. The Armenian term for “humid” (pronounced khonav) seems to take precedence over the word for “mold” (borbos) from my experiences. Someone may try to convince you that the room is just humid, and firing up a portable, yet highly dangerous electric cooking plate that they will provide for a few minutes will solve the problem. No one wants to admit that their furnishings are musty, I suppose. But no matter where you go, you’re bound to run into mustiness of some degree—just make sure that the scent is not overpowering.

When we reached the main road we made a left and headed back in the direction of Vanadzor to visit the “Anush” restaurant and motel, located just outside the village of Vahaknadzor. I stopped there with Anushig and her friend Lilit on a day trip last year for lunch while on our way to visit the Sanahin and Haghpat monasteries. One of the travel books that I have, given to me last year by someone visiting Armenia, mentioned that the place offered rooms. There are four units available, constructed in a loft architectural style, so the sitting room and large outdoor balcony is on the first floor while the bedroom and bathroom are on the second, accessible by a wooden spiral staircase. The conditions were more or less the same as those of the rest house—clean, cozy and well kept, but with a bit more pizzazz and a discernable homey feeling. These parts of Lori however do have their fair share of spiders, so you may find one waiting in his web in a corner of the room or by the window. This seems to be a normal expectation, it should not be considered a sign of uncleanliness. It is considered bad luck to kill or chase out spiders from a home, which explains their presence. Even in my own apartment I don’t dare to get rid of them.

The “Anush” motel is perched just above the Debed River, which is only about 100 feet or so below. The sound of crashing water is very soothing, and it lulls you to sleep after only a few minutes. At times with the slight humidity and light breezes I felt as if I was by the seaside. The view of the forested hills that seem to roll on forever is spectacular. The cost is 10,000 dram ($27) for the unit, excluding meals. You can order tasty food from the restaurant and enjoy it from your balcony if you wish, but the restaurant is literally 10 feet away and you will have virtually the same view if you dine on the veranda. You will eat very well there, expect superb meals and friendly service.

During your stay in a modest hotel, do not expect to have fantastic, soothing showers. Often the experience makes you feel like Inspector Clouseau while you fumbling about looking for a place for your toiletries, trying to find the right amount of hot water to stand under or figuring out why the water is trickling from the showerhead. If sandals are provided do not use them, there’s no telling how infested with fungus they are. Take one of the dozen cellophane bags that you have unwittingly managed to collect during your journey, rip it lengthwise and lay it on the tile floor to stand on. It is not unusual to find a shower nozzle hanging by an aluminum-coiled hose from the sink in the bathroom that you are expected to use successfully. If you are fortunate there will be a clip on the wall where you can fasten the shower nozzle while the lukewarm (or hot if you are lucky) water dribbles on your head. The water drainage can be an issue as well—expect lingering puddles on the floor that you cannot soak up because there is no mop provided.

Finding a place that serves breakfast is always a predicament in Armenia, even in the capital. Although the “Anush” motel is literally three feet away from the restaurant, you cannot eat a meal there before 1:00 pm at the earliest. A place a few kilometers down the road that oddly advertises both apples and meals on its signs is no longer in business. We then decided to try the Tufenkian Avan Dzoraket hotel, which was not too far away. There we were fed like royalty, with several breakfast meals to select from, along with cheeses, cold meats, farm-fresh yoghurt, walnut preserves, coffee and juice included. The omelet portions that we were served were quite generous and very satisfying. Although the meal cost 3,000 dram per person it was well worth it, considering the high quality not to mention abundance of the food and the professional, courteous service.

If you are fascinated by the construction and architecture of Armenian churches, especially those built on top of rocky ledges or high up in the forested hills where it seems no tuf or basalt stone used for erecting them is within reach, and wonder what the interior might once have looked like, go to Akhtala. The Amaras complex, which consists of the fortress constructed in the 10th century, and the Akhtala Church of the Holy Madonna, or Surb Astvadzadzin in Armenian, is located about 15 or 20 kilometers north of Alaverdi. Akhtala is not only special because of its architectural triumph, perhaps even more important is the fact that the original frescos painted on all of the interior walls when it was constructed in the 13th century remain in remarkable condition. The paintings virtually cover the entire walls, all the way to the top where they meet the ceiling, on which signs of damage from the elements are clearly evident. The portraits of saints and stories from the Bible that are all depicted on the walls are very good or else in excellent condition when taking into consideration how old they are, and the technical skill of the artist is remarkable. Remember that these illustrations were made before the times of Giotto, the pre-Renaissance Italian master of fresco painting, but the skillfulness employed by the painter in Akhtala arguably rivals his work. Nevertheless, perhaps that should best be left to art historians to determine.

There’s only a few churches in which frescos are still visible, one of them being in Meghri, also quite magnificent, and another in Kobair, which is also in Lori but there is no paved road leading to it. I noticed that there was no Armenian at all written anywhere inside Akhtala, even the tombstones, on which Georgian and Russian script was legible. The caretaker told me that in those times it was an accepted practice to use Greek when printing passages from the bible on the walls or any text for that matter.

I will only say a few words about the Haghpat, Sanahin and Odzun monasteries since so much has already been documented about them, especially the first two. Simply put, they are sublime, exquisite masterpieces of architecture, artistry and faith that any visitor to Lori must make a point of seeing. It would be a sin to not frequent any one of those sites, as they are truly amazing spectacles to behold. Find and chat with the priest at Odzun, an inspiring, spiritual man in his late twenties who is dedicated to the preservation and restoration of the church and the surrounding compound.

After leaving Lori we decided to drive through Tavush for a short while. We had a nice light meal of tomato and cucumber salad and a tasty, deep-fried ring of thin river fish reminiscent of sprats at the Getap restaurant situated on the road leading from Dilijan to Ijevan, where you can sit outdoors, riverside. Service is a bit slow there so expect to take a long lunch. Then we traveled onward to Ijevan, a sleepy town where streets are lined with tall coniferous trees. In the center of town is a great open market that was once more charismatic than it was when we visited there. The vendors there sell all sorts of grapes and abundant produce grown in the area.

Then back in Dilijan we stopped in the new Tufenkian compound where an inn and several shops are located. The price they quoted for a room accommodating two people was 40,000 dram, very high considering that you can stay at their Lake Sevan resort for around 28,000 dram per night with three meals included. We were pondering to stay in Dilijan for the night but decided against it, believing that going to Tsakhadzor would be a better option. Although plenty of hotels are available with rooms for around 10,000 to 15,000 dram per night there as special off-season rates (Tsakhadzor is a winter resort town) we wanted to stay someplace on the cheaper side. If you don’t mind quaint, rather bland, unpretentious lodging, try the Painters’ Guest Home in the middle of town. It is a two-story green house located on the right corner where Charents Street joins the main square. We were shown a room on the second floor that was fairly large but overcrowded with furniture. The shower was fairly decent, certainly the best that we had during our journey. But the room itself was a bit dark and drab. All things considered, it was not all that bad at only 8,000 dram per night for a couple.

One last point about small, affordable hotels—they are not necessarily 100 percent dust free. Housekeepers, despite the availability of vacuum machines and other modern cleaning devices, are obliged to clean the old-fashioned way—using a straw broom gathered and tied by an old women in the village, a small dustpan, and an old, damp rag wrapped around the T-shaped end of a long wooden handle. The only explanation I can think of for continuing to employ these methods is that hotel owners do not see the necessity to invest in more efficient procedures of housecleaning. Needless to say, these implemented cleaning tools are not very effective at all. Also, wiping dust from furniture and window sills and removing grime like smashed mosquitoes off tiled bathroom walls are accomplished infrequently for some unknown reason. Based on my experiences of the last four days, this seems to be the norm. I am assuming that cleaning practices are a bit more detail-oriented in higher-priced hotels, but I am not certain. I will say, however, that the Tufenkian chain of hotels and resorts is top-notch and you will certainly not find any lack of cleanliness issues there. They are perhaps the best lodging establishments that you can stay in throughout Armenia.

When in Armenia, take a couple of days to explore the wonderful sights, smells and nuances that Lori has to offer. They will be indelible experiences that you will cherish for a lifetime. Incidentally, apart from Lori, I also prefer the south, particularly the magical region of Syunik. Kapan has a rather nice hotel in the center of town alongside the river to stay in. Goris is a gorgeous place to visit but I have yet to spend the night there. Just be sure to stay out of Yerevan as often as you can possibly manage to truly absorb and appreciate what Armenia is really all about.

Photos by me and Anushig.

Armenian Farmers and Vendors

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 05:29:00 +0000

The Armenian Weekly has published an article I wrote about the plight facing farmers in Armenia as well as the hardships that fruit and vegetable vendors have to endure day in and day out. Here are two excerpts:

The expenses associated with farming have skyrocketed in recent years. The price of a 50-kilo load of fertilizer virtually doubled from 4,000 dram in 2008 to 8,000 dram this year. Electricity, which is essential for farmers pumping water from artesian wells, has also increased since last year from 25 dram to 30 dram per kilowatt. The cost of water has gone up by approximately 30 percent. And to have one hectare of land tilled with a hired plow, a farmer is obliged to pay up to 45,000 dram for the job.

There have been times when local governing authorities have put pressure on Virab by extorting bribes.

“They would shut off my electricity and cut off the water supply, so I’d pay them off to keep going,” he said. “The government doesn’t let you work, they don’t want to see you take more for what you’re giving to the land, for what you’re producing while breaking your back, for your own livelihood. They want a slice of the pie, too.”

***

In Yerevan, Mgo sells mostly peppers, onions and, especially, cucumbers, piled in four rows about two-feet long at his stand behind the Gomidas Street market. The fruit and vegetable merchants sell their produce in the lot behind the building, which is now used mainly by vendors selling various products made of dried fruit.

The Russian cucumber variety sells for 300 dram—or 81 cents at the current 370 dram-to dollar exchange rate— which Mgo buys for 180 dram. The Armenian sort that he buys at 350 dram from a village nearby Etchmiadzin sells for 400 dram. He insists that it is top quality.

“Business is very bad this year,” he says while frowning. “It’s due to the bad weather. This year there weren’t many cucumbers. I’m managing but barely.”

Anahit sells various vegetables along the sidewalk in front of the Gomidas market. Whenever anyone walks by she entices them to buy her eggplants, tomatoes, and peppers, all of them plump, fully ripe, and glistening.

“I buy tomatoes for 150 and I sell them for 200. Cucumbers that I buy for 250 I sell for 300,” she says disappointedly. “By the end of the day I’m left with between 2,000 and 3,000 dram in my pocket, that’s all. It’s tough.”

I have yet to meet any rich farmers in Armenia. Virab seems to be doing well for himself quite honestly with a two-story home that he built himself in the village from tuf stone surrounded by a lovely garden full of fruit trees. That home lies behind the one his father built decades ago, which will be razed soon. The yogurt his wife produces is amazing, they offered me delicious tan to drink when I visited them. And the homemade cheese is also very good incidentally. But he's in debt as are many other Armenian farmers, if not all of them. If the money lenders suddenly decide to recall their loans he will undoubtedly face some serious financial problems.

Already money is scarce as it is, despite what you may be reading in the news about foreign loans entering Armenia to be redistributed to businesses. Yerevan banks are simply not lending, despite advertisements for five to seven year loans being offered at a ludicrous annual rate of 15 percent. I don't know who is actually benefiting from the money that is supposedly being made available--I am assuming people with connections with bankers and to people connected to the government somehow are seeing it. I can't say that there is any way of knowing for certain what's actually transpiring in Armenia's financial sector.

If anyone is feeling the crisis crunch in Armenia due to the worldwide economic slowdown, it is the farmers and vendors, without a doubt. Farmers will take a huge loss in profits this year because it simply costs too much to work the land. Seed has also gone up in price along with fertilizer and general day-to-day operational costs. And the produce is cheap, there's very little to show for their efforts. I mean, how is it possible that you can buy a kilo of tomatoes in the summer for less than 50 cents five years ongoing--actually even longer--when the cost of living keeps going up and up each year? There's no logic. And the government doesn't seem to care.

An Unforgettable Day

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 06:47:00 +0000

Our wedding was a huge success. Around 65 people turned out, comprising mostly of Anushig’s relatives. Regrettably no one from my side of the family could make it to the wedding this time around.

Sergey Minasian stood in as my father, while his wife Nelli, my surrogate mother, was unfortunately in the hospital. Other friends who turned out included Shari Melkonian from Boston, who now lives here and works as the country director for the Armenian Volunteer Corps, and Ani Tchaghlasian along with her husband Hagop. Several friends from my workplace were also in attendance. My “kavor” or best man was Loris Lalayan, whom I’ve known since 2002 when we were employed at a software company here. He’s a fantastic, warm guy who I value very highly as a true, dedicated friend.

The church ceremony at St. Gayane started about 20 minutes late. At least two weddings were held before ours, but at the time I ran into a slight panic thinking that someone else had taken our place. Then it dawned on me that the schedule was set at Armenian time, so we roamed the church’s surroundings in the meantime, inspecting the graveyard and trees. The “tamada” or master of ceremonies showed some of us the grave of Khent, the real-life protagonist of Raffi’s novel of the same name.

Our reception was held at ARMA Hotel and Restaurant, which is located in Nork-Marash. We chose to hold the party on the patio under the green canopy they have in place there. The food, ambience and service were all fabulous. I must have drunk at least three liters of the five jugs of wine that I personally fetched from Haigaz’s wine cellar down in Areni about 10 days ago. I purchased 30 liters, all of which was consumed by the guests along with the Russian “Green Mark” vodka. The dry wine was superb, aged for three years. Despite forecasts calling for a 60 percent chance of rain the outlook was rather sunny, although by evening a thick mass of foreboding clouds moved in from the south. But no rainout, thankfully. Had there been rain it would have been a disaster, a complete washout since the canopy has worn a bit thin.

The band assembled by David Minasian performed traditional Armenian music with depth and feeling, and they managed to energize the guests quite nicely. Everyone I spoke to was very pleased. I thought the band was amazing personally. They performed all the popular folk songs that I grew up listening by sheer chance. Among the extremely talented musicians was Vardan Grigoryan of the Armenian Navy Band, who played duduk, clarinet and I think zurna at one point—can’t remember all that well since I was pretty drunk. Actually my memory of most of the night is fuzzy, or maybe hazy is a better word. Too much revelry does that to you I suppose.

The photos posted here taken at church are by Lilit Manucharyan, while those at the reception were shot by Soseh Hovsepian, who is a friend from work. Others pictures that were taken by a semi-professional photographer at church we will not see for two weeks, which is odd. Virtually zero portrait photos exist of me and Anush since no one with a camera bothered to take them for some bizarre reason, so we’ll most likely get dressed up this weekend to have some shot by my good friend Karen Minasian (Sergey’s son), who is a professional photographer.

Anyway, I am thankful to all the guests who attended the wedding to share this special, memorable day with us. Despite a hangover that lingered for about two days it was certainly one of the best days of my life. The only people missing to share in our joy were my parents, Khosroff and Linda, and their presence was missed by many, including Sergey who knows them personally and my mother-in-law Klava, who is naturally very eager to meet them. Nevertheless, they were with us in spirit.

I wish the party didn’t end so soon. I’m looking for an excuse to have another one.

Gearing Up for The Big Day

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 12:45:00 +0000

On Saturday, August 1 I will make my way to St. Gayane church in Ejmiadzin for wedding number 2. It's high time that I move onward with a new bride by my side.

I will marry Anush Khachatryan, who was born in Yerevan. I first met her a few years ago at a club called Stop where a local rock band was playing. In autumn 2007 we became friends, but soon thereafter our relationship blossomed into a full-fledged romance. We decided to get engaged last September. Anush is a energetic, fantastic enthusiastic woman who, among several impressive traits and virtues, is an expert in preparing Indian cuisine. She is a psychologist by profession and is employed by SOS-Kinderdorf Armenia as a counselor and educator to teenage orphans. I've never met anyone who has filled me with so much positive energy emanating from the aura of serenity she transmits. She is a dynamic, passionate woman whose lust for life I proudly share. I have written several poems dedicated to or inspired by her that can be read on my other blog.

St. Gayane is my favorite church in Armenia. It dates back to 630 AD but underwent a restoration in the 17th century. The entire structure is mostly constructed from red tuf stone, with slightly lighter and darker shades of tuf spotted here and there. The interior is expansive and fairly well lit with natural light for a church so old. It's undoubtedly one of the most well-designed churches I have ever seen in the entire country.

Beside the church are complexes which serve as residences for priests and administrative offices. The entire compound is strewn with flower gardens and trees. It's basically a sanctuary that is not as frequented as one might expect seeing that it's only a stone's throw away from the mother cathedral, St. Ejmiadzin. I got married there in 2005 not only because I love it there but also because my mother is the namesake of the church. She along with my father can't be here this time around, but she will be in my heart and thoughts when I enter the church on Saturday afternoon. My plan was to have my brother Sevan as my best man, but he unfortunately could not make it due to work-related conflicts.

The planning is moving along smoothly. The wedding dress was sewn by a dressmaker who apparently specializes in women's high fashion. It proved to be much cheaper than renting a dress at a minimum of $300. Anush's dress, including material and labor, cost only 40,000 dram to make, or approximately $112. I haven't seen it yet naturally but I've heard that it is stunning, so I'll make up my own mind in five days.

Other things have been worked out as well. We've already arranged transportation for family and friends who don't drive. We ordered the cake from a popular bakery on Kochar Street, located not far from the intersection with Azadutyan Street. The bakery doesn't seem to have a name for some reason, but their cakes and pastries are special. We hired a band that will be led by jazz trombonist David Minasian, who plays with the Armenian reggae band Reincarnation and leads his own group, called Nooz. The small ensemble is going to play traditional Armenian music performed the way it should be, with duduk, zurna, dhol, accordion and a vocalist. So it will be a memorable evening. The reception will be held at a hotel-restaurant in Nork-Marash, which is perhaps the most picturesque and romantic district of Yerevan.

Photos of the wedding will be posted here some time next week.

Bonded Parallels

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 11:32:00 +0000

Last night the film "Bonded Parallels," a joint Norwegian-French-Armenian production directed by Hovhannes Galstyan, was shown to a packed audience at Cinema Moscow. It was the second time that the film was shown during the Golden Apricot Film Festival.

As the name suggests the film tells two similar stories taking place in totally different settings--one in Norway at the end of World War II, and the other in Soviet Armenia in 1988. To the far north an intriguing, lonely woman named Hanna (played by Siri Helene Müller) who lives in a lakeside Norwegian village while awaiting her husband to return from the war gives shelter to a Russian soldier who has strayed off his path. In their conversational mishaps it is revealed that the soldier, Arakel Serge Avedikian), who has a knack for carving wood figurines of animals, is in fact Armenian. Eventually news arrives of her husband's death and Arakel is there to comfort her. Later they travel together to Armenia, where she gives birth to his daughter. Arakel is carted off by army officials shortly after his return never to be seen again, while Hanna tragically dies shortly after childbirth.

The film's narrative weaves both these stories together, and intermittently the scenario taking place in Yerevan unfolds. Laura (wonderfully portrayed by Laurence Ritter, who I personally know) is a strict, emotionless mathematics teacher who finds fault in her sleepy high-school student named Narek (flatly played by Sos Janibekyan of the hit television mob saga, "The Price of Life") who competes as a moped racer. She beats him on the head one day in class with a disciplinary stick, infuriated by his drowsiness, which later affects his performance on track, and as a result he wipes out. Laura takes him to her home to care for him personally where he stays the night, but he finds himself taking shelter there for several days. Their complicated relationship soon intensifies, and in the tumult of the Soviet Union's last days she leaves Armenia for Norway to give birth to her daughter, raising her in Laura's mother's home. By the end of the film the viewer realizes that the events have simply repeated themselves and the stories are in fact, one.

"Bonded Parallels" was shot by cinematographer Rouben Gasparyan, who is a master in capturing the most intimate moments under pure natural light, incorporating earth tones and the magical properties of water vapor to lure the viewer into the film. The cinematography was absolutely beautiful.

The film's soundtrack composed by the brilliant Vahagn Hayrapetyan, who is in my opinion the greatest Armenian jazz musician on the scene today, was spectacular--a wonderful blend of the tradition, soft Armenian song form with a contemporary jazz ensemble vibe.

"Bonded Parallels," which is reminiscent of the interwoven tapestries of personal loss and hope masterfully designed by film director Atom Egoyan, is perhaps the finest Armenian film produced in recent memory. It is incomprehensible that this film will be made accessible to Armenian moviegoers on only two occasions during a film festival, rather than during an extended stay at Cinema Moscow where it was screened.

But perhaps, seeing that with few exceptions Hollywood movies professionally dubbed in Russian are the only movie offerings available here, there may simply be no audience for such films due to lack of interest, I can't say for certain.

It's not clear how Bonded Parallels will be distributed internationally, but this film is unquestionably something to watch for. Read more about the film here and here.

Looking For Palladin

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 04:44:00 +0000

On the second day of the sixth annual Golden Apricot Film Festival in Yerevan I attended the screening of the film "Looking For Palladin," written and directed by Andrzej Krakowski.

The film stars in its leading role Ben Gazzara, who has played in dozens of Hollywood-produced films during the last 50 years or so. He is perhaps best known for his work in the from-the-heart, passionate films by independent film pioneer John Cassavetes, namely "Husbands," "Opening Night" and the classic double-cross thriller, "The Killing of a Chinese Bookie."

Mr. Gazzara plays a retired movie actor named Jack Palladin who is a two-time Oscar winner that abandoned the glamour and the living-at-the-moment lifestyle to work as a short-order cook at a cafe owned by a fellow expatriate American in Antiqua, Guatemala. An ambitious and cocky hot-shot talent scout named Joshua Ross, played by David Moscow, is sent to Antiqua in search of Palladin to lure him into reviving his film career, albeit briefly. For Joshua the trip serves a dual purpose, as he is also in search of his father, a retired film studio head who has also gone underground, and the second husband of his mother who, as we come to find out, is Jack himself.

During the two-hour timespan we meet several characters who are part of Jack's everyday life, including a taxi driver who operates his business with a horse and buggy, a bicycle happy Catholic priest enamored with Jack's wife (played incidentally by a gracefully matured Talia Shire), a shoemaker protective of Jack's whereabouts, a jovial butcher specializing in liver, and a woman who is dying of a mysterious illness. Several of the characters in the film were actually played by real people who had virtually no acting experience, but you wouldn't have figured that unless you were told.

Mr. Krakowski, who was at the screening and enthusiastically fielded questions at the end of the screening, revealed that the film's subject was very close to him as some scenes were taken directly from his life, particularly candid moments between Jack and Joshua, who insists that Jack reveal the intimate details of his mother's death who died of cancer. He also revealed that the film was actually intended to be shot in a suburb north of New York City, but decided to move the setting to Antiqua while keeping the entire scenario intact.

"Looking For Palladin" is essentially a study of relationships that could have been between sons and fathers, or would-be stepfathers in Jack's case. At one point Joshua tells Jack that "I could have been the best son you ever had." Jack acknowledges that sentiment in a handwritten note he later hands Joshua as he is ready to depart Antiqua.

From what I understand "Looking For Palladin" has yet to secure distribution by a company specializing in marketing art-house films in the US. That fact is quite disconcerting given the solid performance of a veteran, gutsy Hollywood actor, a well-written script containing natural dialog strikingly spoken by the players, and the stunning cinematography in the picturesque town of Antiqua. Nevertheless, in this day and age of absurd, comically void movies, sugar-coated romantic dramas and gimmicky horror films released by Hollywood, that reality can unfortunately be expected.

Footprints, Hetq Online's Blog

noreply@blogger.com (Christian Garbis) — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 06:43:00 +0000

I'd like to call readers' attention once again to Footprints, a new blog about Armenian news and social issues in Armenia sponsored by Hetq Online. I was asked by Hetq's editor, Edik Baghdasaryan, to post entries on the blog regularly. I'm going to discuss Armenian political issues on that blog rather than on this one, with hopefully very few exceptions. Other matters like Armenia's fragile ecology, economics, and social issues will also certainly be raised there.

The main purpose of Hetq's blog is to generate feedback and debates on topics presented. So you are encouraged to leave comments there to be documented in hyperspace in the hopes of persuading others to speak their minds as well about issues affecting Armenia.

Notes From Hairenik continues, so keep tuning in.