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RADIO YEREVAN CALLING: TRAVELS IN TURKEY'S NORTHEAST NEIGHBOR, ARMENIA
Today's Zaman, Turkey
Aug 27 2013
27 August 2013 /TERRY RICHARDSON, YEREVAN
Tiny, landlocked Armenia, squeezed between Turkey to the west and
Azerbaijan to the east, both Muslim Turkic neighbors with which this
predominantly and proudly Christian nation has a difficult history and
an equally troubled present, is hardly the most obvious destination
for the average visitor.
Especially when you consider that the country bordering Armenia to
the south is Iran, not the most tourist-friendly of nations, while to
the north even mainly Christian Georgia, last but not least of this
pint-sized republic's neighbors, for the complicated geopolitical
reasons that make this part of the world so fascinating, is far from
being the ideal country with which to share a frontier.
The land border between Armenia and Turkey has, of course, been closed
since 1993, and Armenia and Azerbaijan are permanently on the brink
of war over the disputed enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh. Throw into the
political mix the fact that flights into the country from many parts
of the world are both inconvenient and expensive, the climate one of
extremes (think scorching summers and long, harsh winters bracketed by
all-too-brief -- if glorious -- springs and autumns) and the tourism
infrastructure often rudimentary, and you may be wondering why anyone
would choose to visit this remote Transcaucasian land of crumbling
volcanic mountains, bleak plateaus and inaccessible gorges.
As old as Rome
Yet visit they do, for in spite of its problematic location Armenia
has to be among the most interesting and starkly beautiful countries in
the world -- especially when you consider the paltry geographical area
it covers (at 29,800 square kilometers, Armenia is a fraction smaller
than Belgium, for example) and small population (at 3.3 million it's
a mere fifth of the size of the city of İstanbul). Around a third
of its people reside in Yerevan, making the Armenian capital by far
the largest settlement in the country -- and the most obvious place
to begin any explorations.
Despite a long and fascinating history that, as all Yerevanites are
proud to tell visitors, stretches as far back as that of Rome, the
city today is a surprisingly modern one. Long gone is the "thoroughly
Eastern town" described so vividly by British traveler and liberal
politician James Bryce in 1876 in "Transcaucasia and Ararat." Bryce's
Yerevan (or Erivan as he called it) was made up mainly of houses of
"one story only, built either of clay or plastered brick, round
an open courtyard, with no windows to the street." The heart of
a city that then had a population of just 30,000 was a bazaar of
"picturesque simplicity" frequented by "the Armenian peasant in his
loose grey cotton frock ... strings of camels from Persia or the
Caspian led by sturdy Tartars, daggers stuck in their belts ... a
swarthy, fierce-eyed Kurd from the mountains or a slim and stealthy
son of Iran, with his tall black hat and yellow robe."
A 1920s new town
Yerevan may have lost much of its "Eastern" color since Bryce's day,
but it remains a beguiling city. Like another capital not so very
far across the Anatolian plateau and with which it shares a similar
altitude and climate, Ankara, modern Yerevan was laid out on a grid
plan in the early 1920s. "New" Yerevan, the brainchild of the Armenian
architect Alexander Tamanyan, has managed to retain the homogeneity of
both its town plan and architecture far more successfully than Ankara,
however, and walking around the central district is a delight.
The streets, fanning out from central Republic Square, are broad and
tree-lined, backed by stylishly simple 1920s-style apartment blocks
whose severity is leavened by their tuff facing stone. Quarried
locally, this soft volcanic material is easily worked and comes in a
pleasing variety of hues, from red and yellow to cream and purple. The
light traffic, in part a result of decades of Soviet rule and in part
owing to the current economic woes of a country that has struggled
to find its feet in the post-Communist period, makes wandering the
city streets pleasant -- plus there are plenty of decent cafes and
tavern-style restaurants to choose from, many of which spill out onto
the sidewalks and squares in the warmer months.
I'm not sure what Bryce would have made of the "new" Yerevan, but one
thing that hasn't changed since his day is the climate. Like myself and
the group of history aficionados I was travelling with, Bryce visited
Yerevan in the heat of summer, noting in his journal the day after his
arrival that "Erivan, the capital of Russian Armenia ... next morning
stood baking in a sun that made it dangerous to go out except under
an umbrella." It was fitting, then, that several of our group availed
themselves, quite unaware of Bryce's advice, of brollies to cope with
temperatures nudging into the 40s. Fortunately the heat is a dry one,
and the evenings are pleasantly warm rather than sultry.
Visions of Ararat
There is, of course, much more to Yerevan than its attractive
1920s boulevards and formal squares. The monumental statue of the
sword-wielding Mother Armenia gazes down over Yerevan from the rim
of an escarpment encircling the northern suburbs. Follow her stern
stare across the city, ignoring if you can the ugly ring of Soviet-era
housing blocks ringing Tamanyan's attractive nucleus, south to the
distant, shimmering snows of the north face of 5,165-meter-high Ararat.
Another excellent vantage point from which to admire the great
glacier-capped volcanic cone of Mount Ararat, some 60 kilometers away,
is the Cascade, a splendid arts center-cum-sculpture park built in a
series of tiers up the escarpment. Much to the chagrin of Armenians
everywhere (the number of diaspora Armenians totals at least 8 million,
more than double the population of the country itself), the mountain
-- which has immeasurable significance for a race that believes it
descends from Haik, the great, great grandson of Noah -- today lies
wholly within Turkish territory.
Composers, crooners, MIG's -- and the Kardashians
A few minutes' walk from the foot of the Cascade, dotted with bronze
statues by well-known artists such as the Colombian Fernando Botero,
is the imposing, circular form of the 1920s Opera House, preceded
by a statue of the famous Armenian composer Aram Khachaturian. Our
local guide, a feisty young woman who was intensely proud of the
accomplishments of her nation and its people, was a fan of this great
classical composer. She took even greater pride, however, in another
famous Armenian musician, French-born crooner Charles Aznavour,
whose mother was from an İstanbul Armenian family.
When it came to famous Armenians, I was more impressed to learn from
our local guide that one of the two designers of the iconic Russian
MIG aircraft (we'd admired a rather battered 1950s MIG fighter on
display next to the Mother of Armenia statue) was the Armenian Artem
Mikoyan. Our guide's fierce patriotism did not, however, compel her
to embrace all things Armenian, and she was very scathing about one
of the most well-known families of Armenian origin today, MTV "stars"
the Kardashians. Of Cher and the heavy metal band System of a Down
she had nothing to say.
Museums, manuscripts and an Urartian fortress
Yerevan's single most obvious goal for those with an interest in
the past is its superb State Museum of History. Prominently located
in a fine building overlooking the fountains of Republic Square,
the museum contains finds from all over the country. The most
obviously impressive exhibits are the incredibly well-preserved
ceremonial oxcarts found near Lake Sevan in burial mounds dating
back to the mid-Bronze Age, though more exciting for me were the
wonderful artifacts from the Urartian (a civilization that spread
over much of what is now Armenia, western Iran and eastern Turkey
circa 900-600 B.C.) ridge-top settlements of Erebuni and Karmir Blur,
both within the bounds of modern Yerevan. Another major attraction is
the wonderful Matenedaran manuscript museum, showcasing over 17,000
manuscripts of both a secular and religious nature. The illuminated
gospels are particularly attractive. Many of these are from monastic
complexes, today abandoned and either wholly or partially destroyed,
built on what is now Turkish territory.
Quite different is Erebuni. The site, crowning a spur running down
from the highlands toward the Hrazdan River and dating back to the
reign of the Urartian king Argishti I (786-764 B.C.), is initially
disappointing, lapped today as it is by dismal Soviet-era suburbs of
crumbling concrete and sagging asbestos roofing. Its location, then,
is a far cry from the remote, picturesquely situated Urartian sites I
am far more familiar with around beautiful Lake Van in eastern Turkey.
Yet on closer examination it is hugely rewarding, as the whole ground
plan of the fortified palace complex can be traced across the hilltop,
some reconstruction work has been done and there is a well-laid-out
on-site museum stuffed with artifacts uncovered here by (mainly)
Soviet-period archeological teams.
Radio Yerevan calling
During the Soviet era, when the city was the capital of the Armenian
Soviet Socialist Republic, a veritable arsenal of jokes, popular
all over the former Soviet Union, was attributed to a mythical Radio
Yerevan. Our feisty young guide may have been a mere infant when the
Soviet Union collapsed, but she knew, and shared with us, a few of
the jokes, all based around listeners asking a question and Radio
Yerevan giving the Soviet state's response:
Listener: Is it true that conditions in our labor camps are wonderful?
Radio Yerevan: Of course, one of our listeners went there five years
ago and liked it so much he still hasn't returned.
Listener: Is it true that Adam and Eve were the first communists?
Radio Yerevan: Of course. They dressed sparingly, never had their
own house and believed they were living in paradise.
Wry and dry rather than side-splitting they may be, but as social
documents of a period that already seems impossibly remote, Radio
Yerevan's jokes may prove invaluable to historians of the Soviet era.
If Armenian claims to be direct descendants of the Urartians are
disputed by many academics, very few would disagree that, at the
beginning of the fourth century, Armenia became the world's first
Christian nation. In the second part of this feature, first stop
will be the spiritual heart of the Armenian people, the "holy city"
of Echmiadzin, out west toward the Turkish frontier on the sweltering
plain of the Aras River.
Terry Richardson traveled with Andante Travels
(www.andantetravels.co.uk)
http://www.todayszaman.com/news-324653-radio-yerevan-calling-travels-in-turkeys-northeast-neighbor-armenia.html
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress
Today's Zaman, Turkey
Aug 27 2013
27 August 2013 /TERRY RICHARDSON, YEREVAN
Tiny, landlocked Armenia, squeezed between Turkey to the west and
Azerbaijan to the east, both Muslim Turkic neighbors with which this
predominantly and proudly Christian nation has a difficult history and
an equally troubled present, is hardly the most obvious destination
for the average visitor.
Especially when you consider that the country bordering Armenia to
the south is Iran, not the most tourist-friendly of nations, while to
the north even mainly Christian Georgia, last but not least of this
pint-sized republic's neighbors, for the complicated geopolitical
reasons that make this part of the world so fascinating, is far from
being the ideal country with which to share a frontier.
The land border between Armenia and Turkey has, of course, been closed
since 1993, and Armenia and Azerbaijan are permanently on the brink
of war over the disputed enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh. Throw into the
political mix the fact that flights into the country from many parts
of the world are both inconvenient and expensive, the climate one of
extremes (think scorching summers and long, harsh winters bracketed by
all-too-brief -- if glorious -- springs and autumns) and the tourism
infrastructure often rudimentary, and you may be wondering why anyone
would choose to visit this remote Transcaucasian land of crumbling
volcanic mountains, bleak plateaus and inaccessible gorges.
As old as Rome
Yet visit they do, for in spite of its problematic location Armenia
has to be among the most interesting and starkly beautiful countries in
the world -- especially when you consider the paltry geographical area
it covers (at 29,800 square kilometers, Armenia is a fraction smaller
than Belgium, for example) and small population (at 3.3 million it's
a mere fifth of the size of the city of İstanbul). Around a third
of its people reside in Yerevan, making the Armenian capital by far
the largest settlement in the country -- and the most obvious place
to begin any explorations.
Despite a long and fascinating history that, as all Yerevanites are
proud to tell visitors, stretches as far back as that of Rome, the
city today is a surprisingly modern one. Long gone is the "thoroughly
Eastern town" described so vividly by British traveler and liberal
politician James Bryce in 1876 in "Transcaucasia and Ararat." Bryce's
Yerevan (or Erivan as he called it) was made up mainly of houses of
"one story only, built either of clay or plastered brick, round
an open courtyard, with no windows to the street." The heart of
a city that then had a population of just 30,000 was a bazaar of
"picturesque simplicity" frequented by "the Armenian peasant in his
loose grey cotton frock ... strings of camels from Persia or the
Caspian led by sturdy Tartars, daggers stuck in their belts ... a
swarthy, fierce-eyed Kurd from the mountains or a slim and stealthy
son of Iran, with his tall black hat and yellow robe."
A 1920s new town
Yerevan may have lost much of its "Eastern" color since Bryce's day,
but it remains a beguiling city. Like another capital not so very
far across the Anatolian plateau and with which it shares a similar
altitude and climate, Ankara, modern Yerevan was laid out on a grid
plan in the early 1920s. "New" Yerevan, the brainchild of the Armenian
architect Alexander Tamanyan, has managed to retain the homogeneity of
both its town plan and architecture far more successfully than Ankara,
however, and walking around the central district is a delight.
The streets, fanning out from central Republic Square, are broad and
tree-lined, backed by stylishly simple 1920s-style apartment blocks
whose severity is leavened by their tuff facing stone. Quarried
locally, this soft volcanic material is easily worked and comes in a
pleasing variety of hues, from red and yellow to cream and purple. The
light traffic, in part a result of decades of Soviet rule and in part
owing to the current economic woes of a country that has struggled
to find its feet in the post-Communist period, makes wandering the
city streets pleasant -- plus there are plenty of decent cafes and
tavern-style restaurants to choose from, many of which spill out onto
the sidewalks and squares in the warmer months.
I'm not sure what Bryce would have made of the "new" Yerevan, but one
thing that hasn't changed since his day is the climate. Like myself and
the group of history aficionados I was travelling with, Bryce visited
Yerevan in the heat of summer, noting in his journal the day after his
arrival that "Erivan, the capital of Russian Armenia ... next morning
stood baking in a sun that made it dangerous to go out except under
an umbrella." It was fitting, then, that several of our group availed
themselves, quite unaware of Bryce's advice, of brollies to cope with
temperatures nudging into the 40s. Fortunately the heat is a dry one,
and the evenings are pleasantly warm rather than sultry.
Visions of Ararat
There is, of course, much more to Yerevan than its attractive
1920s boulevards and formal squares. The monumental statue of the
sword-wielding Mother Armenia gazes down over Yerevan from the rim
of an escarpment encircling the northern suburbs. Follow her stern
stare across the city, ignoring if you can the ugly ring of Soviet-era
housing blocks ringing Tamanyan's attractive nucleus, south to the
distant, shimmering snows of the north face of 5,165-meter-high Ararat.
Another excellent vantage point from which to admire the great
glacier-capped volcanic cone of Mount Ararat, some 60 kilometers away,
is the Cascade, a splendid arts center-cum-sculpture park built in a
series of tiers up the escarpment. Much to the chagrin of Armenians
everywhere (the number of diaspora Armenians totals at least 8 million,
more than double the population of the country itself), the mountain
-- which has immeasurable significance for a race that believes it
descends from Haik, the great, great grandson of Noah -- today lies
wholly within Turkish territory.
Composers, crooners, MIG's -- and the Kardashians
A few minutes' walk from the foot of the Cascade, dotted with bronze
statues by well-known artists such as the Colombian Fernando Botero,
is the imposing, circular form of the 1920s Opera House, preceded
by a statue of the famous Armenian composer Aram Khachaturian. Our
local guide, a feisty young woman who was intensely proud of the
accomplishments of her nation and its people, was a fan of this great
classical composer. She took even greater pride, however, in another
famous Armenian musician, French-born crooner Charles Aznavour,
whose mother was from an İstanbul Armenian family.
When it came to famous Armenians, I was more impressed to learn from
our local guide that one of the two designers of the iconic Russian
MIG aircraft (we'd admired a rather battered 1950s MIG fighter on
display next to the Mother of Armenia statue) was the Armenian Artem
Mikoyan. Our guide's fierce patriotism did not, however, compel her
to embrace all things Armenian, and she was very scathing about one
of the most well-known families of Armenian origin today, MTV "stars"
the Kardashians. Of Cher and the heavy metal band System of a Down
she had nothing to say.
Museums, manuscripts and an Urartian fortress
Yerevan's single most obvious goal for those with an interest in
the past is its superb State Museum of History. Prominently located
in a fine building overlooking the fountains of Republic Square,
the museum contains finds from all over the country. The most
obviously impressive exhibits are the incredibly well-preserved
ceremonial oxcarts found near Lake Sevan in burial mounds dating
back to the mid-Bronze Age, though more exciting for me were the
wonderful artifacts from the Urartian (a civilization that spread
over much of what is now Armenia, western Iran and eastern Turkey
circa 900-600 B.C.) ridge-top settlements of Erebuni and Karmir Blur,
both within the bounds of modern Yerevan. Another major attraction is
the wonderful Matenedaran manuscript museum, showcasing over 17,000
manuscripts of both a secular and religious nature. The illuminated
gospels are particularly attractive. Many of these are from monastic
complexes, today abandoned and either wholly or partially destroyed,
built on what is now Turkish territory.
Quite different is Erebuni. The site, crowning a spur running down
from the highlands toward the Hrazdan River and dating back to the
reign of the Urartian king Argishti I (786-764 B.C.), is initially
disappointing, lapped today as it is by dismal Soviet-era suburbs of
crumbling concrete and sagging asbestos roofing. Its location, then,
is a far cry from the remote, picturesquely situated Urartian sites I
am far more familiar with around beautiful Lake Van in eastern Turkey.
Yet on closer examination it is hugely rewarding, as the whole ground
plan of the fortified palace complex can be traced across the hilltop,
some reconstruction work has been done and there is a well-laid-out
on-site museum stuffed with artifacts uncovered here by (mainly)
Soviet-period archeological teams.
Radio Yerevan calling
During the Soviet era, when the city was the capital of the Armenian
Soviet Socialist Republic, a veritable arsenal of jokes, popular
all over the former Soviet Union, was attributed to a mythical Radio
Yerevan. Our feisty young guide may have been a mere infant when the
Soviet Union collapsed, but she knew, and shared with us, a few of
the jokes, all based around listeners asking a question and Radio
Yerevan giving the Soviet state's response:
Listener: Is it true that conditions in our labor camps are wonderful?
Radio Yerevan: Of course, one of our listeners went there five years
ago and liked it so much he still hasn't returned.
Listener: Is it true that Adam and Eve were the first communists?
Radio Yerevan: Of course. They dressed sparingly, never had their
own house and believed they were living in paradise.
Wry and dry rather than side-splitting they may be, but as social
documents of a period that already seems impossibly remote, Radio
Yerevan's jokes may prove invaluable to historians of the Soviet era.
If Armenian claims to be direct descendants of the Urartians are
disputed by many academics, very few would disagree that, at the
beginning of the fourth century, Armenia became the world's first
Christian nation. In the second part of this feature, first stop
will be the spiritual heart of the Armenian people, the "holy city"
of Echmiadzin, out west toward the Turkish frontier on the sweltering
plain of the Aras River.
Terry Richardson traveled with Andante Travels
(www.andantetravels.co.uk)
http://www.todayszaman.com/news-324653-radio-yerevan-calling-travels-in-turkeys-northeast-neighbor-armenia.html
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress