by David Zenian
SAO PAULO: When the Armenian Catholic church decided to close its small elementary school in Sao Paulo this year, few people winked and fewer noticed its demise from community life.
Letters to Sao Paulo's 600 Armenian Catholic families failed to save the nine year old modern school which had already lost most of its Armenian students in recent years.
"The parents just did not care. We told them we were being forced out of the education field. We told them this was an Armenian school we were being forced to close. They did not react," says Sister Genevieve Tavitian who had left a teaching position in France to help get the Sao Paulo school back on its feet.
"We wrote to the families. Many just did not respond, but sadly enough, some said they would send their children if we eliminated Armenian from the curriculum. Out of our eighty students, only fourteen were Armenians, and even their parents did not care. This is sad, very sad," she said with a breaking voice.
Father Gomidas Beujekian, in Sao Paulo for a similar mission, also laments the closure of the school.
"It is no secret that the most indifferent Armenian community is that of Brazil. We have to respect the exceptions, and there are many. This community has built churches and schools but the new generation is very apathetic," he said.
The community has a string of benefactors whose determination, faith and financial contributions have kept the churches and schools open.
Sister Genevieve and Father Gomidas, like others involved in Armenian community work, are full of praise for the benefactors, but insist that wider community involvement is essential.
"Sao Paulo needs stubborn crusaders, people with a passion to work for the community. We have some, but we certainly could use a lot more," Father Gomidas adds.
One such person is Olga Bourjakian, who for the past thirty-five years has singlehandedly operated Sao Paulo's only Armenian Radio Hour.
"I must admit that I use more Portuguese than Armenian during the program, and I must also admit that I have little or no access to information regarding current developments. But I have given the community all I have, and will continue doing so as long as I can, "Ms. Bourjakian says.
If people like Ms. Bourjakian have arduously promoted Armenian culture and heritage, others have silently pressed for Armenian rights and recognition within the Brazilian community at large.
Sao Paulo not only has a monument honoring the 1.5 million Armenians killed by the Ottoman Turks, but also a subway station named "Armenia".
From five a.m. to midnight, an estimated 1.5 million people pass through the station. Before each stop, the train conductor announces the name of the station "Next station: Armenia ...," comments an Armenian community leader.
While officially numbering about 25,000, Armenians actually involved in community affairs do not exceed 1,500, notes Armenian Orthodox Primate Bishop Datev Gharibian.
"Most of the Armenian activities are concentrated in Sao Paulo. Our schools are here, our churches are here and our community centers are here, but I am worried about the future of the community," Bishop Gharibian says.
The Brazilian Armenian community consists mainly of immigrants from Marash, Ainteb and Kharpert. Most came immediately after the 1915 massacres of Armenians by the Ottoman Turks.
Despite early hardships, the Armenian community of Brazil today is considered one of the richest in Latin America. Many are in business with the shoe and leather industry including large number of Armenians in its ranks.
"Most of what we have now is the work of the early immigrants or the first generation of Armenians born to these immigrants. The last of the immigrants came around 1930, and since then, the pipeline has dried up. The community has had no fresh blood since then," Bishop Gharibian adds.
Bishop Gharibian speaks with pride of the Orthodox community's Tourian National School, and the Armenian General Benevolent Union's Paren and Regina Bazarian school, which between them have some 250 students - not a large number given the size of Sao Paulo's Armenian community.
The two schools carry the "Armenian torch" heroically. They have a shortage of Armenian language teachers and students. Parents are sometimes more than apathetic.
"But the struggle will go on. It is a national duty and obligation to future generations," says Father Yeznig Guzelian, the principal of the Tourian school.
His counterpart at AGBU's Paren and Regina Bazarian elementary school, Ms. Nelly Nalbandian, admits the going is rough, and Brazil's rampant inflation is no help either.
"Imagine a situation where you have to re-examine tuition fees every month. There is no such thing as an annual tuition in this country," she said.
"Early this year, that is in February of 1991, the monthly tuition was 26,000 Cruzados. In October this year, the tuition had already gone up to 59,000 Cruzados per month ... and climbing."
"This means the salaries of teachers will have to also be adjusted every month. Just think of the confusion these repeated adjustments create. It is very difficult to plan ahead," Ms. Nalbandian says.
Underlining her remarks, another Armenian community official recounted a recent incident when a concert which was planned to generate funds for a local school ended up barely covering its costs.
"Inflation and the daily changes in the value of the Cruzado against the U.S. dollar make a mess of the planning process. We fixed the price of the tickets six months ago on the basis of that day's exchange rate, but when it came to paying the singer, in U.S. dollars as we had agreed, inflation had eaten away our income from the ticket sale. We almost lost our shirt in the process," said one of the organizers.
"The concert was supposed to be a fundraiser. We were lucky to pay the singer ..." he said.
