Heghinar’s Corner articles

Merry Or Not, It Will Arrive

It‘s my last week. I have become restless for reasons unknown. By saying unknown I don’t literally mean unknown, but, you know, I don’t know which one of many reasons is stirring my emotions. I sleep very lightly and wake up very early – characteristic that would never have described me in the past. The New Year is literally around the corner and I still have so much to do, to at least feel like I did something, or achieved something in 2010. But all my attempts fail, just as they have done over the last 12 months.

Tatev: The End of the Rainbow

On October 16, 2010, I did not get to ride on the world’s longest reversible aerial tramway, but I got to strengthen my belief in people who simply want to see Armenia prosper. While the world was fascinated by the operation of the “Wings of Tatev” aerial tramway, I was fascinated with the dedication of those who provided funding for the realization of its operation.

The Fall of the Crane, The Call of the Crane

It is interesting that the word crane has two completely different meanings, but is spelled the same way in English. It is also interesting that the lifting machine and the bird species are pronounced the same way, “groong,” in Armenian. The long-legged and long-necked bird, famous for standing on one leg, is more than just another bird for Armenians. Cranes are one of our national symbols, associated with immigration and fortune.

Touching Our Lives by Touching the Peak

Sometimes we don’t realize that the things we do might have an effect on other people’s lives. Decisions made and actions taken on a solely personal basis turn out to be more than personal and touch those surrounding us. This is what happened when a group of friend from different backgrounds and age groups: Vahe Aghabegians, Vahe Avakian, Hayk Petrossian, Arsineh Khanjian, Raffi Niziblian, Ktrij Devejian, Alex Sardar, Karen Elchian and Eric Sarksians and gathered, and decided to go mountain climbing. Not just any mountain, but the goddess of Armenian mountains: Mount Ararat.

From the Opera Hall to Yesayan Hall

It’s eight thirty and we’re already standing at the corner of the street where we live. We’re waiting for a taxi. One thing I love about the taxis in Syria is that they have colored lights on top of their roofs. The red light indicates that the cab has passengers, while the green one means it is vacant. I see a yellow cab approaching with its green light on and my husband extends his hand. I immediately look at the face of the driver. This is a very important thing for me. His face, his appearance is the key to how I will act. This time I sit silently, gazing out of the window next to me.

Living Among Arabs

I come out of my bedroom and Ari, my youngest brother-in-law approaches me. “Good morning Ari”, I tell him. “Good morning” he says and looks at my face, “There’s mascara on your cheek”. Whilst walking towards the bathroom and trying to rub it off I tell him, “But I removed my makeup before going to bed”. My brain is half asleep. I still need to wash my face, shower, brush my teeth and drink a cup of Nescafe before I can think clearly.

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