I spent 13 months in Armenia, living and working in the capital, Yerevan, the economic, cultural, and political heartbeat of the country.
Living there as an American ex-pat and absorbing the history of the people I realized that Armenia was more than the Kardasians, much more. There's a cadre of brilliant Armenians who've changed the world in big and small ways.
Khachatur Abovyan-author & intellectual
Daron Acemoğlu-economist
Hovannes Adamian-pioneer color-tv
Cardinal Grigor Petros XV Agagianian-candidate for Pope
Ara Parseghian-Notre Dame football coach.
And countless others, but I digress.
I was there as an Economic Development Consultant, working on a USAID project rubbing shoulders with the locals and learning, learning, learning. If nothing else, Armenians are emotionally proud of their heritage, their language, their history, and their refusal to roll-over for their enemies.
In a year's time, I had many experiences including symphonies, ballets, museums, and their Christian Orthodox services.
One day, shortly after my arrival, I attended a reception with a group of clients helpful to my work. While there, I was introduced to the wife of the US Ambassador, the Honorable John Evans. We had a spirited conversation about issues challenging Armenia and what needed to be done to mediate them. That brief conversation led to a private meeting with the Ambassador and a luncheon for my wife, Julia, and me at the Ambassador's personal residence. This occasion remains a highlight of my time in Yerevan.
On another occasion, Julia and I attended mass at a small chapel behind my apartment building. Christian Armenians took pains to camouflage their churches from the atheist regime of the Soviet Union, the Russians were systematically closing churches and destroying many.
The chapel, hidden behind the building, was ancient, several hundred years old. There were no pews, typical of medieval churches, and a sanctuary covered with magnificent icons.
The service started with the singing of male voices from a choir loft at the rear of the church. It was a gregorian chant and it was beautiful. The singing was accompanied by 6 monks, dressed in black robes with cowl hoods, walking through the crowd like we weren't there. They were chanting back to the choir as they walked.
The celebrant was at the altar, he was dressed in gold lame, surrounded by acolytes.
The chanting back and forth between the monks on the altar and those on the choir loft was like nothing we'd heard before even in the great cathedrals of Europe.
This was happening while the acolytes on the altar were filling the air with clouds of incense. There was no electricity, the church was illuminated with candles, the candlelight, the incense, the monks, the hoods, the gregorian chant; when taken together it was an out of body experience that I'll never forget.
In the church vestibule, there were votive candles, hundreds of flickering flames casting shadows against the faces of the overflow attendance.
Armenia for me was many things but their loyalty to tradition and their medieval culture is what you'll remember.
Next stop Uganda, East Africa
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