by David Zenian
The life of a new immigrant is never easy, even if the adopted country is one of the most tolerant and liberal in the world. It takes more than just time to adjust.
Arriving in Holland from the "old world", Armenian families were - for the first time in their lives -- confronted with a culture of "anything goes" that was alien to their upbringing.
Holland is one of the most open societies in Europe. Amsterdam had long been known as "one of the pleasures of the flesh capitals of the world."
The so-called "coffee shop culture", a haven for soft-drugs, legalized prostitution and the abundance of sex shops and brothels were too much for the new immigrants to fathom.
"I was thrilled with the help provided by the government to the immigrant families, but I was afraid that all that sex and drugs which had become synonymous with Holland would destroy our youth," said an Armenian father who settled in the Amsterdam area 30 years ago.
His fears were shared by many.
For the first time in their lives, the new immigrants had to deal with issues like a liberal attitude toward soft drugs and prostitution, plus unemployment, welfare, housing shortages and the other ingredients of a Western society.
There was the issue of crime, including narcotics and theft, especially for the children of new immigrants from such conservative countries like Turkey and north Africa.
"At first we were afraid to send our children to school. But over the years, this has changed. Now we prefer sending them to private Christian schools which are safe for our children," an Armenian parent said.
Adjustment was an uphill battle. There was a new language to learn, comprehend the ways of a new society, preserve the family structure, maintain the Armenian heritage and integrate enough to start new careers as Dutch-Armenians.
Despite the ancient links between the Dutch and Armenian people, the Armenian community in Holland only started taking its present shape in the 1950's with the arrival of a small contingent of Armenian immigrants from the Dutch Indies, which is today's Indonesia.
This group had previously settled in Indonesia at the turn of the century. They had moved there from what was then the pre-dominantly Armenian town of New Julfa in Iran
. For them the adaptation process was relatively easy, given the fact that they had already started the integration process with Dutch colonialists in Indonesia.
Dikranouhi Galsdian, who celebrated her 90th birthday this year, was only seven years old when her family moved from New Julfa to the Indonesian coastal town of Surabaya.
That was in 1916. Her father was already in Indonesia where he owned a private business in transportation and trade.
"One early morning we saw large formations of military troops on hills outside New Julfa facing our town. We first thought it was the Turkish Ottoman army, and we were terrified," she said in a recent interview at her small assisted-living apartment on the outskirts of Amsterdam.
"We knew that Armenians were being massacred in eastern Turkey at the time, and we decided to leave before the Turkish army entered our town. But despite the fact that the troops on the hills were Russian soldiers, we did not want to stay. We were afraid," she said.
The youngest of seven children, Dikranouhi lost her father a year after the family was re-united in Surabaya, where she grew up in a small Armenian community. She married a Dutch businessman, who was a friend of one of her brothers.
She was only 17 at the time. "The marriage was arranged by my older brother," she said. But Indonesia was soon to become an independent country and the Dutch colonialists had to leave. For Dikranouhi it meant yet another move - this time to Holland in 1946.
"There were maybe a few Armenian families in Amsterdam when we arrived, but we had no contact with them," she said.
Over the years, Dikranouhi, who later became known as Rika among her Dutch friends, raised a family of her own. None married Armenians.
"It is difficult to maintain your heritage in a place where there is no active community. This was the case with my family, but things are very different now," she said.
The same was true for all the Armenian immigrants from Indonesia. With no Armenian community to fall back on, they assimilated into the Dutch society.
But is it easier now for the later immigrants?
A few at a time, Armenian families began moving to Holland in the early 1960's and continued until the early 1980's, mainly from Turkey and later from Iran after the Islamic Revolution, Iraq after the Gulf War, Lebanon to escape the civil war, and other parts of the Middle East in search of a better and more secure life.
The largest group, however, came from Shirnak, a small Kurdish village along Turkey's southeastern border with Iraq. Today the so-called Shirnak Armenians form the largest single Armenian immigrant group in Holland.
For them integration was a very slow process. The difference between the old and new cultures went far beyond the language barrier.
Coming from a cloistered society where the family elders prevailed in every decision, the immigrants from Shirnak found themselves in a country where liberalism and freedom had dimensions very different from their way of thinking.
Arriving as refugees, they were first settled in special camps, given monthly subsidies and time to adjust. They spoke no Dutch, or English which is the second and most widely used language in Holland. The majority also spoke no Armenian, which they had lost after living for generations in a small village which had a Kurdish population.
One of the early immigrants from Shirnak was Ijri Aykaz, now 58 but at the time a 25-year-old tailor whose only contact with "Western civilization" was a three-year stay in Istanbul-two of which were spent as a soldier in the Turkish army.
Born in Shirnak, he came to Holland in 1966 to live a "free and dignified life", and with the determination to preserve his Armenian identity. He is now fluent in Dutch, has built a successful private business, retired and remains closely involved with the Armenian Church in the Dutch city of Almelo.
"Life is becoming more difficult these days. The outside pressures are great and keeping the family sanctity is hard work. Maybe it was easier to remain Armenian in Shirnak than here in Holland," he said.
"As a very small minority in Shirnak, we kept our identity. We were different than the local Kurdish population. Our integration was complete in the market place, but at home, we were Armenians," he said.
The immigrants from Shirnak, after decades in Holland, still remain aloof. Integration still does not mean total assimilation, even for the younger generation.
Some speak with pride that they only socialize with people of similar background. Others say their only contact with the Dutch people is in the workplace.
"We have taught our young daughters discipline. In our town of Almelo, our girls never stay out past 7 p.m.," Aykaz said.
But how long will this "protective barrier" last. Aykaz is not sure.
"In a free society like Holland, assimilation is a major threat. Today, we enjoy the respect of the younger generation, but times are changing. Our grandchildren will not be the same.
"Our elders were a blessing for our generation. They kept us together. We are trying to follow in their footsteps," he said.
Aykaz's generation has purchased an old school and converted it to an Armenian Church which they view as the focal point of the community. "Nothing else will keep us together," Aykaz says. But not everyone thinks like him.
Later Armenian immigrants, especially those from Iraq who settled in Holland after the Gulf War, look at community life from a different perspective.
"We also need our clubs and social life. Today's youth needs more than the church," said a young immigrant from the Iraqi town of Mosul.
This group is active through a number of youth programs which include a boy scout troop, a club, Armenian language classes, sports activities and social functions.
One such club, located in Almelo, is the Yerevan Cultural Association which is housed in a three-story building purchased by the Armenian General Benevolent Union in the 1980's.
The AGBU took the initiative to help the new immigrants after being approached by a Dutch humanitarian organization which was involved in the resettlement program. The building was purchased for close to $200,000 and put under the disposal of the new immigrants to use as a community center. The club now offers special Armenian language classes, the only one available for Almelo Armenians, organizes social events, lectures and other community activities.
Its membership consists mainly of a younger generation of Armenians who describe themselves as "less traditional" and "more open to change."
Many also come from different demographic backgrounds, are fluent in Armenian, and take a more secular approach to community life.
"The church has its special place, but we also need to modernize and integrate. We have nothing against the older generation, but change is very important to us and our children," a young father said. The fears of the early immigrants are still there, but progress is inevitable.
"Our children who were born here are not going through the same culture shock as we did. For them liberal Holland is no longer a threat to their character. On the contrary, they see themselves in a land of opportunity and turn a blind eye at what we consider foreign to the traditions of our heritage," a young father said.
As the community settles down and begins to prosper, a younger generation of Armenians is finding out what it means to be a Dutch-Armenian.
