When I asked the children living in the Gavar orphanage who I should talk to, they all agreed. “You ought to meet Sedo. It's his birthday today.”

The birthday boy was immediately found and brought to me, but a dozen children, ages six to thirteen, stuck close by, begging me to ask them their names and ages, and what grade they were in. At the orphanage, the birthdays of all children in a given month are celebrated at the month's end. Four children were born in July. At the end of the month, there will be cakes on the tables in the cafeteria, candles will be lit, and birthday boys and girls will be congratulated. And to distinguish them from the others, their pieces of cake will have roses on them.

Sedrak's birthday was on July 11. He turned eleven. He has spent five of his eleven years in the orphanage. On the small table next to his bed there were toys given to him as gifts. It was obvious that these weren't new toys, all were used, but Sedrak was happy to receive them from his friends in the group. “You know, I gave him this cat, “ said Karen, who had himself received the toy as a birthday present. It was clear that the birthday presents were passed around like to the birthday boys and girls of that month.

“Here everything is good, it's nice, we are safe and well-fed,” Karen Kerimyan tirelessly explained, sounding as if he had been persuaded of this himself. “I came to orphanage on November 5, 2005. My name is Karen, I'm six years old, but call me Kerim, it's my nickname, there are two other Karens in the group. One is me, the second is the other Karen, and the third is another one,” he explained.

One of the birthday boys was Artak, who turned eleven on July 8. “I gave a present to Sedrak, and he gave me one too, “ said Artak, who was very satisfied with the exchange – he received a Superman toy. It seemed to be the most popular gift among the boys.

“What I really wish for is a soccer ball, which they sell for 400 drams in the store next to the orphanage, “ said Sedrak. He had already managed to gather information about the ball; now he had to wait for the right moment.

“Our other birthday boys have gone to camp, but they'll be back by the end of the month. For example my birthday is April 24, you know I have money in the bank.” As I was trying to persuade the birthday boys for that month to tell me a little bit about themselves, six-year-old Karen told me his life story “My father and brothers are in Hrazdan; my mother died when I was born. I have money in the bank. I haven't decided what to do with it yet. The important thing is it's nice here, comfortable, we are well-fed and safe.”

The children I met in the kindergarten almost always avoided talking about their parents, or said that their parents visited them, but then later on forgot, and got caught in their innocent lies, when they confused the years and order of events. Even though Sedrak wished most of all to receive “toy soldiers and a soccer ball”, he confessed that he'd like to spend the day in his Vardenis home, with “Mama”.

And Karen, who hadn't stopped talking for a minute, added, “Hrant Dink's wife came here. Also Unicef, Armentel and Vivacell, “Our Old Friend the ARF”, Grand Candy, priests from Echmiadzin, Poncho, Samvel Baghdasaryan, French, Italians, Chinese. The most important thing is that we are taken care of here…”

Photos by Nelli Shishmanyan