Yesterday morning I took off from my BnB out to a 10th century monastery just outside of Gyumri. My host was kind enough to give me a lift in his 1955 GAZ Volga Star. A Soviet made automobile that looked as clean and well polished as it must have when it was delivered from the factory. As we made our way out of Gyumri it was almost like driving through time. Right in the heart of the city new renovations were everywhere. New sidewalks, men installing windows, even entire buildings beginning to be erected. As we made our way out of town and into the sprawl of Gyumri the Soviet era apartments became more frequent. Grey, dirty and uniform they stood at a attention. Then came skeletons of the apartment buildings that had collapsed in the earthquake that rocked Gyumri in 1988. Mostly all that stood of the giant formations were the exterior elements. The floors had collapsed through leaving a husk of what the building once was. We must have driven past fifteen abandoned and collapsing buildings on the way to the monastery. It was like seeing ghosts in a graveyard. After driving through some countryside we reached Marmashen.
As the old automobile slowly and carefully made its winding way along the potholed and water logged roads we descended down into a small canyon. Nestled at the bottom, next to the lazy Akhurian River, sat the remnants of five churches. All that remains of the original five are two churches in still standing condition, the nave of another and the ruins of the other two. The rust red stones standing out blazingly against the green hills and shrubbery that accent it. A young Armenian woman came up to me and began to give me the history of the monastery in a spitfire and densely packed assault. After about ten minutes of leading me from one area to another my tour had come to an end. She asked if I had questions and I didn't have the heart to tell her I missed almost everything she had said. She showed me where her stand was for the items she was selling and I promised her I'd be back before I left. I wandered a ways away from the main church complex and began sketching. A shepherd across the river was moving his flock from one hill to another. The soft bleating of the sheep combined with the soothing sounds of the river acted as a tranquilizer for whatever else was happening in the world around me. I was alone with this thousand year old church grounds. Apart from the birds that jetted to and fro around the steeple. Not giving out so much as a chirp of uneasiness in the mid day sun. Before we made our way back into town I bought a small doll from the friendly woman who had lead me around. She gave me my change, an apricot and a smile as I walked away.
Once we returned to town I made my way out into Gyumri to walk around. I remembered walking around the main square and found my way to a cafe Santiago, Levon and I had eaten at a year before. Trout with risotto and a Gyumri beer to wash it down. After lunch I made my way to the Domik district in Gyumri. After the earthquake of 1988, thousands of people in Gyumri were left without housing. With having most of their possessions destroyed when apartment buildings crumbled they had next to nothing to rebuild with. The local government promised to get these citizens new housing as soon as they could and in the mean time they could live in temporary housing. After all, it was no fault of their own that these people's homes had been taken from them. They weren't in gambling debt or drank their money away. They were just ordinary people who drew an remarkably disastrous, unlucky hand. The temporary housing consisted of developments scarcely better than shipping container with windows. I should not say consisted of, the temporary housing consists of is more apt. After all, the majority of families left homeless after the earthquake still live in these "Domiks". In these temporary homes they are plagued by rodents, freezing temperatures and all manner of ailments that come from living in such conditions. According to data collected by the Tuff Armenia group out of the University of Virginia, many have chronic health problems that they are unable to get treatment for. Many young men who were bread winners for their households have left the area to seek out employment in other areas of Armenia. Sometimes they even go so far as Russia to find a livable wage to send home.
Last year I spent a day in Gyumri walking around the domiks with Santiago and Levon. The two of them make up part of the Tuff Armenia team that is aiming to bring housing to these families left behind over thirty years ago. Santiago and I would take pictures while Levon talked to the residents. This year it was just me. My aim was to take some photos that could be combined with work I had made last year. Together Santiago and I had spoken of submitting a show to galleries to raise money. However, this time Santiago wasn't with me. I began to feel a bit like a tourist to other people's misfortune. Standing among the converted shipping containers with a camera felt cheap, exploitative even. I decided to make my way back to my BnB. As I walked out a little boy sped past me on a bike. It was the boy in the Barcelona jersey that I had photographed a year before in his family's home. Before I leave Armenia I do intend to return to the domiks, even if just for a day, and try and pull some work together that can be turned into something useful for the people who live there. But in the moment I only felt like I was intruding on the lives of the people who had been so welcoming to me a year past.
This morning I returned to Yerevan. The train ride took three and a half hours through the Armenian countryside. As the train crested over hills and we rocketed on bridges suspended what felt like miles above valleys, all I could think of was the families I had met last year. Each home was more welcoming than the last. All unloading what seemed like a lifetime supply of apricots and Armenian coffee on us as we moved from house to house. Though almost all they had was robbed from them in a force of nature in the recent past, they had been so quick to amply share what they had with us.
Here is a link to an article written in UVAToday on the Tuff Armenia Project. You can find out more about the project and the timeline for goals they have set.
https://news.virginia.edu/content/uva-student-leads-work-rebuild-armenian-homes-devastated-earthquake