Vignettes on continuity and change in Yerevan

“Assalamu alaykum.” Nobody had ever approached me in Yerevan and greeted me that way before. Quite instinctively, I responded, “Wa alaykum salam.” He was an ordinary-looking man, perhaps around my age, perhaps a bit older. He was balding and wearing dark clothing. A woman in a bright hijab accompanied him, pushing a stroller with a cute toddler. We were about to cross Teryan Street, heading toward the Swan Lake corner by the Opera in central Yerevan. “I am from Falasteen. Please, would you help …” I placed my hand on my heart and bowed slightly with a regretful, empathetic expression. That is how I respond most of the time to those who ask for money. I grew up in a society where begging was widespread and often a racket. It’s rare that I can bring myself to give money to strangers on the street. I am always wary, and in a city like Yerevan, I imagine I most likely will run into the same people — as I have over the years come across those who tell the same story and try to sell the same scam. Now, I didn’t know this family at all or whether they were running a scam. But all the same, I couldn’t bring myself to help them. It breaks my heart every time. I remember the very first time, during my first year in Yerevan, in 2002. I was alone on the ninth floor of an apartment building. The knock on the door turned out to be from a beggar woman. It shook me for two reasons. First, here was someone who must have been in such dire straits that she had been going up all the floors of that tall building, trying her luck for a handout. Second, she was speaking Armenian. All the beggars I had seen and heard my whole life until then did not speak Armenian. It was profoundly disruptive to my young mind. And now, this Palestinian family — what were they doing in Yerevan? God only knows what they had been through. I could hardly imagine, and “dire straits” would be putting what I imagined very lightly. I felt so guilty not helping them and thought what they might do to receive some support. What were they doing in Yerevan, I kept wondering. How did they even get here? There is a new “they” in this city in recent years — many new “theys,” in fact. I find it encouraging and welcome it myself. But not everyone I know agrees. Having seen Yerevan’s dynamics over  years, I have a clear recollection of how things were, and perhaps not the best understanding of how and why they have changed, but certainly some thoughts and feelings on the matter. * I grew up in a cosmopolitan environment. The monolithic nature of Yerevan has bothered me in many ways for most of my time in this city. There is, or was, pretty much only one language that dominated, and that, too, was not the kind of Armenian I grew up speaking. There is, or was, pretty much only one kind of physical appearance, so to speak — clothing, the way people carried themselves, moved and behaved. There has also been pretty much only one attitude toward strangers, namely kindness and hospitality. That part is rather wonderful. Today, walking the streets of Yerevan, downtown or otherwise, one can hear different kinds of Armenian being spoken. Russian was current, of course — less so today, but still very much part of the city’s fabric. English is all around. People of various physical appearances and behaviors are everywhere in town. There are communities from India and the Philippines, different strands of society from Russia and Iran, and some Arab populations. There must be others I do not know about. It is rather vibrant, at least on the surface. That family from Palestine has its story, which I would hesitate to discover. Many Russians have likewise left behind their homes and families for tragic political reasons. It is upsetting to see some of the news reports on the labor force from India and how migrant workers are sometimes abused.  I remember reading about how Ireland experienced a remarkable demographic shift starting in the 1990s. A society that for centuries had had a large net emigration rate was suddenly home to communities from different parts of the world. It was an unprecedented phenomenon. It took some getting used to for the Irish. It is the same with Armenia today. One important difference is that many of the people coming to Armenia may have a temporary stay in mind before returning home or moving on to greener pastures. Another difference is that Armenia is a country emerging from a war, still unstable and challenged to accommodate Armenians who were forced to leave Artsakh in recent years, much less immigrants or migrant workers from elsewhere. And then there are Armenians elsewhere who may have varying attitudes toward demographic shifts in Armenia. Not that any of those attitudes could affect policies pursued by the government in Yerevan. But still, to try to gauge the shifts in the entire Armenian nation, it is worth bringing in thoughts and feelings from the Armenian diaspora, however possible that may be. Yerevan has changed a great deal from the charming, very Armenian space that many diasporans would find delightful to a still-charming city that is more cosmopolitan, with quite awful traffic and construction around every corner, it seems. For those who have witnessed the shifts in Yerevan over the past two decades, there might be many changes to regret, but also many new things to welcome. I don’t want to say change is inevitable, we all have to get with the program whether we like it or not, that sort of thing. Nothing is inevitable per se in human society. People make choices. Governments direct policy. Private actors conduct themselves according to their interests. What I hear myself saying above all in conversations, especially with diasporan friends, is this: Look, any place with wealth in human history has been diverse and cosmopolitan. It just hasn’t happened otherwise. Think of New York or Paris today. Think of ancient Rome or medieval Constantinople. Those were likewise cities where many languages were spoken and many religions were practiced. Oh, and please look into the demographics of Ani 1,000 years ago or Sis some centuries later. They were full of communities of non-Armenians, merchants, soldiers and others. Wealthy places attract all sorts of people, whether they bring ethnic, national or religious diversity, or whether they are the people left behind by that wealth, finding themselves begging on the streets. Construction and traffic are par for the course as well, although more efficient regulation and enforcement would be highly desirable in today’s Yerevan. * “T… a… m… a… p, che, n… y… a… n. Tamanyan!” My little niece is learning how to read. We are standing on the other side of the Opera, by the monument to Aleksandr Tamanyan (Alexander Tamanian), leading to the Cascade. I have her figure out the name of the person sculpted, and with some bumps along the way, she manages it. A stranger, an older man, watches us nearby and is amazed. Yerevan has changed a great deal from the charming, very Armenian space that many diasporans would find delightful to a still-charming city that is more cosmopolitan, with quite awful traffic and construction around every corner, it seems. “Es inch lavn es dou!” he exclaims to her. She is indeed simply delightful. We get talking. He praises me and my family for moving to Yerevan. He says he has lived for some years both in Russia and the United States and that truly being Armenian can be guaranteed only in Armenia. This attitude bothers me quite a lot. I try to make my own arguments on the matter but soon give up. The man has made up his mind. The question of what makes a true Armenian, how one can be and remain a true Armenian, and so on is very problematic and rigid. Framing true Armenian identity only within the country of Armenia is likewise not necessarily a compelling way to think about it, if you ask me. This is a long-discussed topic in the Armenian world, so I am not sure how much more of a contribution I could make here, except to say I have seen it all.  I have seen individuals and families both in Armenia and in the Armenian diaspora with strong Armenian identities, passing on our culture to their children — and by “our culture,” one can refer to a wide variety of components, from language or languages to religious practices, food, and many other things. I have also seen individuals and families for whom Armenian identity and culture were not really distinct parts of their lives — yes, whether in Armenia or the Armenian diaspora. I have seen families in which one parent was not Armenian but took on that identity and culture to some extent, wonderful people sometimes called ABCs for fun, or “Armenians by choice.” I have also seen full Armenian families abandon or not give any value to Armenia, Armenian culture or Armenian identity. That could be for any reason — no judgement or criticism here. For example, an emigrant family trying to make ends meet in a new country may not have the time or resources to attend Armenian church or send their kids to Armenian school that is far away or expensive. There are likewise struggling families in Armenia, no need to mention, for whom Armenian identity or culture are not really active categories to think about, but for whom passive Armenian identity or culture would entail components that would not feature at all for an Armenian family leading a community in the diaspora. There are individuals and families in the Armenian diaspora who have never set foot in Armenia, either because it does not feature in their thoughts or feelings or because they simply cannot afford it. And so on. The question of what makes a true Armenian, how one can be and remain a true Armenian, and so on is very problematic and rigid. Perhaps I am reading too much into it, but for that older man, I would say my little niece was a sort of triumph of culture, identity and being Armenian, overcoming various nationalist stereotypes and tropes, threat perceptions and anxieties. I wonder how that man might have reacted to the Palestinian family that approached me around the corner from there. Would he have felt their presence as a threat to national identity or culture? Or would he have hospitably welcomed them as strangers burdened by fate, not unlike so many Armenians in recent generations, and been kinder and more helpful to them than I was? Armenia and the Armenian nation have been living through significant disruptions in recent years, not least the loss of Artsakh. The political and geopolitical changes in Armenia are well documented and constantly discussed in the media. Other kinds of shifts alongside them may end up having their own enduring influence on Armenian identity and culture. Understandings of what makes an Armenian, and the realities of all who live and work in Armenia, are only two examples of categories and phenomena that need careful thought and assessment. In the social sciences, the conceptual framework of continuity and change is deployed to identify and measure what stays the same and what becomes different in societal dynamics over time. More nationalistic, conservative or reactionary attitudes may have a difficult time adjusting to new realities on the ground in Armenia. Those realities remain in flux, so it will be a while before any firm conclusions can be drawn about the continuous and changing conditions of the Armenian state and nation. The post Vignettes on continuity and change in Yerevan appeared first on The Armenian Weekly.