Weeks 7-8 and Final Reflections 🌷🐏🇦🇲

As I write this from the Frankfurt airport, sunburnt, sleepy, and waiting out another unnecessarily long layover, I am overwhelmed by so many emotions. Grief to be leaving what feels like a homeland, to have said goodbye to people that feel like home. So much love for everyone who made this experience possible and who held me up throughout it. Excitement to see how these connections I have made will carry me into the future.

This was undoubtedly the most beautiful summer I have ever had. Throughout my time in Armenia, I met so many wonderful people that I know will always be a part of my life. I am still in awe of the community that immediately surrounded me, supported me, and made me feel at home—the incredible women at the WSC, especially Ani, Hasmik, and Srphuk; my dance group at Vanakn Folk, especially our teacher, Andranik; my other interns at Armenian Assembly, and our director, Anna; my Airbnb hostess, Lilit; and so many more. I truly never felt alone, not even for a moment.

Thanks to this experience, I’ve come to realize that there is a future for me in Armenia—that I have something valuable to contribute to this place, to these people. I am confident that no matter what comes my way, I will find my way back here. In working with and speaking with so many radical feminist and leftist Armenians who are doing important work and practicing intersectional feminism in a very direct way, I realize that the spaces I have been seeking for so many years are right in front of me, now that I know where to look.

I’m also proud of myself for taking steps that were initially very scary to me. I’ve always been very self-conscious of my Armenian, after years of my family criticizing my broken speech or making fun of my pronunciation, so it took a lot of courage for me to practice the language with strangers. Even though I am still certainly not fluent, I’ve made a lot of progress and am committed to keep speaking the language with other diasporans.

After finishing up my internship last Friday, I committed to going on a hiking trip with my dance group over this past weekend, despite the quick turnaround of my 4am flight early this morning. We traveled to Syunik, Armenia’s southernmost province, to climb Mount Khustup, a 10,518 foot tall mountain that looks like something out of Tolkien’s Middle Earth. It was simultaneously the most difficult and the most beautiful thing I have ever done, which I feel perfectly sums up my time in Armenia. The night before our climb, we danced traditional Armenian dances together and sang old songs around a campfire. After sleeping for a few hours in our tents, we woke up long before sunrise to begin our climb, the nearly full moon lighting the way. We climbed to the summit for six hours. Even though it felt impossible, I surprised myself with my strength, and how simple it was to draw strength from those around me: a helping hand over a rocky part of the path, a shared piece of fruit or lavash bread, a smile. Standing at the summit (while holding on to my dance teacher, Andranik, so I didn’t fall) was probably the best moment of my life.

If anything, that is what I have learned from this: that I don’t have to stand alone, that my strength comes from those who surround me, who hold me up. To all of these people, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Until we meet again: ցավդ տանեմ ❤️

@Barnard College