Hrant Gadarigian
“You know,” the middle-aged sales clerk chimed in, “We should send a letter thanking the Turks for committing the genocide. As a result, Armenians were scattered around the world and now they can send us money here in Armenia.” I almost dropped the book I was leafing through. I couldn’t believe what I had just overheard… Now, I am confident that this woman is in the minority when it comes to such thoughts. But I am equally sure that there are many who think like her here in Armenia. You just have to scratch the surface.
***
The following is a true story…unfortunately.
I had just finished a day’s work translating for Hetq. Around 4:30, I decided to take a walk outside. It looked like another great day in Yerevan; warm and sunny.
Making my way down Abovyan Street, I stepped into a well-known bookstore off Republic Square. I headed towards the Armenian history and literature section towards the back.
Seated were some of the sales staff – two women, probably in their late twenties, and a middle-aged one. Not surprisingly they were complaining about the state of affairs in Armenia.
“They say a nation gets the government it deserves,” commented one.
“That’s right. Armenians like to boast about their ancient civilization and all, but can you call what we’re living today civilized?” her colleague replied.
“It’s so sad,” said the first. “But at least we Armenians are a clever bunch. We make do with the measly wages we make.”
“You know,” the middle-aged sales clerk chimed in, “We should send a letter thanking the Turks for committing the genocide. As a result, Armenians were scattered around the world and now they can send us money here in Armenia.”
I almost dropped the book I was leafing through. I couldn’t believe what I had just overheard.
“It’s the truth,” said the middle-aged clerk. “It may sound a bit crude but that’s what I think.”
The younger clerks began to giggle. I felt an intense impulse to go over and choke the woman.
I weighed my options. What would be the proper response to such an ignorant and uncompassionate comment?
I felt like turning to the woman and in the most polite voice I could muster saying, “Perhaps you should pick up one of the many books on the Genocide you sell here. Take a look at some of the photos of the death marches and the starving orphans left parentless. Maybe you’ll think before uttering such crap.”
Now, I am confident that this woman is in the minority when it comes to such thoughts. But I am equally sure that there are many who think like her here in Armenia. You just have to scratch the surface.
Do all citizens of Armenia regard “outside” Armenians, many descendants of Genocide survivors, as convenient money faucets? Is that how many regard me? an “outsider and descendant of Genocide survivors.”
It makes your skin crawl…at least that’s how I felt at that moment.
Even more unreal was the fact that right down the street, representatives of the AGBU were staying at the Marriott Hotel. There was even a big AGBU sign outside on the sidewalk announcing the fact.
The cafe tables outside the hotel were full of what I assumed were AGBU members sipping their drinks and conversing in Western Armenian. A lone local resident was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk selling nuts from a plastic bag.
An eerie combination indeed…but one that kind of sums up our present reality in a crazy sort of way. Perhaps the sales clerk was right. Who am I to judge?
The AGBU – one of the biggest Armenian money faucets around. I’m sure the bookstore sales clerk would have been overjoyed that her wish was coming true.
One thing for sure, the AGBU and other outside donor sources should demand a greater degree of accountability from the Armenian government to see that the money reaches its intended targets.
Maybe that ignorant sales clerk thought I was one of those rich AGBU types and she wanted to crack what she thought was a clever joke at my expense. If so, she’s doubly an asshole.
It’s just another sad commentary on the gulf that divides the realities of present-day Armenia and the global Diaspora.
Both sides have yet reached a point of mutual recognition.
Now the sales clerk in question evidently was aware of the 1915 Genocide, but for her it was just another tragic page in the history of the Armenian people; one that she believes has a “silver lining”. That’s to say it’s not an integral part of her personal identity, of who she is and where she comes from. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have used it as a reference for jokes.
I just wonder how many others think like her when they walk up the hill to the Tzitzernakapert Genocide Memorial and Eternal Flame every April 24th.
Please tell me I’m paranoid. Please tell me that we, as a nation, can overcome the stereotypes on both sides of the divide and reach some common understanding as to how we can cooperate and build a better Armenia for us all.
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