There is a proverb in Russian which goes something like this: If you are afraid of wolves, then stay away from the forest. Samvel Akobian is not afraid of wolves, and neither is Robert Avetisyan or the thousands of Armenians who call the Crimea home.
"You take risks in the United States. You have to work hard to get somewhere, and the same is true here. I am not afraid of wolves," he said during a recent tour of his paper factory on the outskirts of Simferopol, the capital city of the Crimea.
Akobian and Avetisyan are two of the many Armenian entrepreneurs whose hard work and willingness to take risks has paid off in a difficult environment where complex—and often uncertain— laws equate success with dishonesty.
Taxes are high, and so are the "hidden" costs of doing business, along with the constant pressures of fighting corruption in a society where communism is "alive" and "greater than life" statues of Lenin are still standing tall in city squares.
But Akobian is determined to move ahead, building a small business empire with a difference.
"You have user-friendly computers. I run a people-friendly business which benefits society and also helps me make some money as well," Akobian says with enthusiasm—and rightly so.
Akobian was born in Armenia in 1960, came to Simferopol in 1981, graduated from the city's military academy in 1985, and served in the Lake Baikal region of Russia near the border with Mongolia for four years, attached to a unit in charge of communist ideology.
He returned to Armenia in 1990 at a time when the Soviet Union was beginning to crumble and his country was taking its first steps toward independence.
"Life in Armenia was very difficult. I could not find work, especially with my background. I could not just sit and wait for something to happen, so I came back to Simferopol in 1992, where I still had some friends from my days in the military academy," he said.
"I had a few ideas, but no money," Akobian said.
With the little cash at his disposal, Akobian imported a wagonload of toilet paper from Kiev. The product was very much in demand, and it was sold out sooner than the time needed to get the next shipment.
"I realized that I could do better if I manufactured this product here in Simferopol. With the money I made from the sale of the first few shipments, I bought my first piece of manufacturing equipment," he said.
The rest is history.
W ithin a few short years, Akobian had already established
the first paper factory in the Crimea, manufacturing not only toilet paper, but also napkins, paper boxes and other packing materials which he sells on the local market and exports to all parts of the Ukraine.
Hit with inflation and the cost of paper, Akobian introduced another first for the Crimea: recycling.
"So much paper is wasted. This is bad for the environment, and the economy," he said of the curbside operation he has started not only in Simferopol, but several other Crimean cities.
"The collection of old newspapers, cardboard and other paper products gives old age pensioners something to do and generates some cash for them to compensate for their meager resources. If people come and say we don't want money, I can pay them in such items as vodka, canned food and other goods which they can sell and make more money," he said.
Akobian's approach to recycling has not only enhanced his business, but made him one of the most popular industrialists in Simferopol.
"I think I will run for Parliament in next year's elections," he said.
Another successful Armenian is Robert Avetisyan, who has lived in the Crimea for more than 40 years—starting out as a physics student at Simferopol University in 1956.
Bom in the Nagorno Karabakh capital of Stepanakert, Avetisyan still speaks with a distinct Karabakh accent.
He is in the oil business and heads one of Simferopol's largest petroleum distribution companies.
"There were a handful of Armenians when I first arrived here. There was no community structure—not even the concept of a community. This was just another part of the Soviet Union," he said in an interview.
As a physics major, Avetisyan headed Simferopol's seismology center until the breakup of the Soviet Union when he joined an energy group which is one of the largest oil importers of the Crimea.
Avetisyan is also one of the founding members of the Armenian Community Council which includes businessmen, journalists, politicians, retired officers and engineers.
"A lot has changed since I came here 40 years ago. The population has grown and so has its needs. Getting together for social functions is not enough. The older generation has a great reputation, and it's now up to us to build on that and move forward," he said.
A part from sending thousands of dollars’ worth of aid to Armenia since the 1988 earthquake, the community has also provided temporary shelter for children from Nagorno Karabakh during the summer months.
"This has been my home for 40 years. I am here to stay—and so are the thousands of Armenians who have come here since 1991. We need to remain united and get stronger to maintain the respect of the local population," he said.
Like in almost all of the cities of the former Soviet Union where Armenians live today in large numbers, building a church is very high on the community's list of priorities.
"This is not just a religious expression. It is the best way to maintain our heritage and make our presence felt in this environment. We have already gone a long way toward that objective, relying only on our own resources. Even moral support from the Armenians in the United States will strengthen our position ... We have to make the local population realize that we are not alone in the world," Avetisyan said.
And what is the future for the Armenians in the Crimea. Avetisyan has a simple answer. "Strength and being part of a worldwide community of Armenians in the Diaspora. A strong Armenia will rejuvenate the Diaspora, and a strong Diaspora will guarantee our well-being on these far away shores.
"I could bring a few examples involving other ethnic groups," he says, continuing, "Armenians can do better."