by Louise Manoogian Simone
Shortly after the AGBU General Assembly in Yerevan, an active member attending the week-long events expressed his appreciation for what he considered was a unique learning experience. "I traveled often to Armenia in the 70s, " he said, "but I never saw the people or the country the way I did this week." His statement brought back memories of the not so distant past and of how much has evolved in recent years.
My first trip to Armenia was in 1982. Impressed, emotionally affected by the beauty of the land, the warmth of the people and the opportunity to understand my roots I returned once or twice every year. It was always a thrill to arrive in Yerevan, to see the countryside, tour historic monuments, and visit families to hear about their life in Armenia.
But the reality was something quite different, something most people never talked about. As tourists, most of our time was controlled by the Committee for Cultural Relations, a special department established by the communists to watch over foreigners. (There was a similar committee in every major town in the republics of the Soviet Union). Travel was limited to within 50 kilometers of Yerevan. You couldn't even drive to Gyumri without KGB permission.
In those days, government officials or anyone with high aspirations could never be seen in church, the First Secretary of the Communist Party, the leader of the country, was forbidden to ever personally meet the Catholicos, the spiritual leader of the Armenian Church who presided at Holy Etchmiadzin ten minutes away, billions of rubles for construction and social programs in Armenia would be announced by Moscow only to have the money disappear, and then, of course there were the people, each often afraid of their neighbor or co-worker or chief as one wrong word uttered could threaten their security forever. KGB files were filled with "evidence" given in writing or in personal interviews by individuals reporting on friends or acquaintances in order to gain favor. How often the so-called "guilty" party had to work for weeks, months or even years to clear his or her record.
Then came the Gorbachev years. The promise of glasnost and perestroika. Encouraged by the pronouncements, the people of Armenia began their silent demonstrations for the self-determination of their fellow Armenians in Karabakh. Massacres in Sumgait and a flood of Armenian refugees from Azerbaijan heightened the demonstrations. The Soviets sent in their soldiers, tanks and all their military hardware taking over Opera Square, the airport and all of Yerevan again and again through the following months trying to suppress the outcry. How quickly everything changed. Armenians, once seemingly loyal to the Soviet Union, were angry that the army, which they now considered outsiders, dared to enter their land.
The devastating earthquake changed things again as thousands of foreigners suddenly flew into Armenia. They cared nothing about the KGB as they commandeered trucks and cars and rushed to Gyumri, Spitak and Kirovakan to give aid to the victims. Taking advantage of the crisis, the Soviet government arrested and imprisoned Levon Ter Petrossian and leaders of the Karabakh Committee. Unrest, uncertainty prevailed. As a visitor I was stunned and afraid of what was yet to come.
But the last time I remember any fear was in 1990 when Gorbachev was still in office and Levon Ter Petrossian had just been elected chairman of the Parliament, the first of many historic events. Four die-hard communist officials were still left in office, ensconced at their huge headquarters, "The White House" of Armenia. I heard Ter Petrossian say "they'll have to vacate by the end of the week." "Oh No," I thought, "Gorbachev is going to send in the Soviet Army again." But ... they were out by Friday, moving to one room in a printing plant still owned by the communist party.
Some things stand out in my mind about those traumatic days; the lack of fear in the population, both in Armenia and Karabakh, as they poured into the streets determined to protect their land; the confidence of the leaders of the Karabakh Committee that the end of the Soviet Union was near; and the quiet and even humorous way every Armenian communist official left office. Villager, urban dweller, revolutionary or die-hard communist, the country came first.
Independence was passed, Ter Petrossian was elected president, the war in Karabakh escalated. Soviet subsidies stopped, and the nation staggered from a blockade by Azerbaijan. Electricity and gas were cut to a bare minimum, bread was in short supply, unemployment grew to unheard of proportions and everyone froze during two long, hard winters. The spring, summer and fall of ‘93 the population was still trying to emotionally and physically recover from the, day in and day out, endless crises affecting their very lives for 5 l/2 years.
But if you ever wondered what the Armenian heritage, the Armenian DNA, is all about, you should've seen Armenia this spring. As the flowers began to bloom so did the people of Armenia.
Beginning the end of May, Armenia hosted thousands of delegates, representatives and guests from around the world arriving for the 50th anniversary celebration of the Academy of Sciences, the meeting of the International Armenian Businessmen's Forum, the visit of the Buenos Aires Armenian Chamber of Commerce, The Black Sea Consortium conference, the Russian Parliament's joint session with the Armenian Parliament, the 75th Anniversary and week-long symposiums by Yerevan State University, the International Soccer Games, Cyprus versus Armenia, the International Women's Conference organized by Mrs. Levon Ter Petrossian, a visit by the UN, headed by Secretary General Boutros-Ghali and last but never least, the week-long 78th General Assembly of the AGBU with 300 delegates from 18 countries attending.
All of these visitors and tens of thousands of local residents enjoyed weekly concerts and festivals by the Armenia Philharmonic, performances by the Opera, State Dance Ensemble and various theaters, art exhibits by the State Museum, the Modern Art Museum, several newly opened galleries and the crowd pleasing Vernissage, the every week-end art fair in Yerevan.
In October alone, the opening of a new jazz center, a nursing school, the expanded wing of the AGBU Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery Center, a new French school for government affairs and the second graduation of the American University of Armenia were celebrated.
One foreign ambassador remarked that he could hardly keep up with the invitations. A far cry, he said, from his Azerbaijani counterpart who had no place to go except a bar or two frequented by foreign oil company representatives stationed in Baku who also had no other place to go.
This isn't to say that all is well by any means, but it's progress. A semblance of a cease fire in Karabakh has lightened the mood, the Armenian currency, the Dram, has stabilized and the blockade has been eased by daily trade with Iran, air cargo shipments from Bulgaria, Syria, United Arab Emirates, Russia, other CIS republics and intermittent railway deliveries through Georgia.
The privatization by the government of agricultural land, and Armenia was the first former Soviet Republic to accomplish this, has given the farmer a substantial income. Plans are underway to privatize a good portion of industry and commercial property in 1995; a move that will increase employment and help boost the economy. In the meantime, commerce has become the major source of income for a small but growing middle and upper middle class.
On weekends, the ravine below the soccer stadium and the stadium itself is filled with hundreds of traders selling foreign clothes, shoes, household equipment and a variety of goods. Thousands line up as they wait their turn to shop in the scattered stalls. Some weeks, as a new shipment of clothes has obviously arrived, the same designer copied dress, sweater or suit can be seen on dozens of people walking the street. At the weekly Art Fair on Saturday and Sunday merchants and artists sell paintings, ceramics, handwork, jewelry and household goods to crowds mostly comprised of locals. Kiosks along the road from Yerevan to Etchmiadzin and throughout neighborhoods in the country sell foreign cigarettes, food, candy, soft drinks, beer and juices all at considerably higher prices than what you would think the people could pay. Specialty stores offering European delicacies and the first supermarket to open in Yerevan, selling almost anything you could want, are flourishing.
It is however a time of great disparity. Close to 80% of the population is still on the government payroll. Salaries, ranging from $2 for pensioners to a high of $8 a month, when it costs at least 150 U.S dollars a month to bring the bare necessities to a family, are debilitating. For some the struggle to just get through the week has become almost unbearable. Many are in deep debt as they borrow or sell personal belongings to survive.A number of talented and industrious career-oriented people have left for Moscow, other republics or abroad. The lines to obtain visas at the American, French and German Embassies in Armenia wind around the block.
Educational and cultural institutions, receiving minimal subsidies from a cash starved government, are having a hard time keeping staff, some of whom are moving on to newly established private institutions or businesses which pay at least ten to twenty times the government scale, while others are taking additional part-time jobs.
The government, in a move crucial for any functioning democracy, has recently instituted charges for electricity (you can even bring in a private line if you pay $10,000), gas, water, telephone, tuition fees for some estimated 75,000 students enrolled at state universities and institutes and taxes of 30-60% for businesses and 15% for individuals. Naturally after 75 years of free services, today's inflation and inadequate wages, few are paying.
During this difficult transition period, humanitarian aid provided by the U.S., other foreign governments and private agencies has made a difference for those in dire need, as has all the support from Armenian organizations and individuals from abroad. Armenia is the only republic in the former Soviet Union receiving once a month airlifts, with goods shipped by the diaspora, thanks to funding by the Lincy Foundation and the United Armenian Fund.
What's it really like in Armenia? First of all it takes 24 hours to get there from the United States - the last leg on a plane no one under normal circumstances would fly, landing on a runway that would never meet FAA regulations, struggling at an airport where it takes three hours to retrieve your luggage, usually arriving at 5:00 AM to a totally pitch black city due to the shortage of electricity, staying at a hotel that has one hour of hot water a day and sometimes no water at all, a hotel that has served the same identical meals since the day it opened twenty-five years ago. And yet ...it is the greatest, most exciting two weeks you could spend.
It's a land no bigger than Maryland, that ranges from snow capped mountains to fertile, green fields to the most arid, rocky scenery you could imagine. A land dotted with thousands of centuries old churches and monuments, each unique in its design and setting. A land with a population that has survived through invading armies, civil and world wars, the worst of the Stalin years, famine and poverty. A land with a population that will seem like family two hours after you land.
And it's not only Armenians that feel that way. This year a UCLA professor working at AUA, not Armenian and a 50 year-old confirmed bachelor, married a local Armenian, as have a number of foreigners from various international agencies serving in Armenia and as have over 20% of the U.S. Peace Corps volunteering in the villages and towns of Armenia.
What's it like to work in Armenia? Well, we've all become experts in installing generators and boilers and pipes and new roofs and whatever else it takes to make a 30 year Soviet neglected building function. We've shipped in thousands of tons of medical equipment, pharmaceuticals, machinery, computers, copiers, textbooks, journals, countless other goods and even prefabricated buildings to make our projects a success. We've adapted and readapted and readapted again until we've found the right solutions.
Anyone from abroad working in Armenia today will tell you their lives have changed forever. Twenty-four hours a day we think, breathe and live "Armenia." There is in all our minds and hearts a sense of urgency; a sense of urgency to improve the quality of daily life for three and a half million Armenians living some of the most difficult days they have known; a sense of urgency to bring new technology, systems, expertise, everything and anything that will give them the resources to build a modern, dynamic thriving nation ready for the 21st century.
The challenges are great but the rewards are even greater. For we know, our future, as Armenians, begins and ends in a country called Armenia.
