"The only thing about our classroom that makes it like a classroom is the size. Everything is falling apart. There is no glass in the windows-they're covered with plastic. There's barely a ceiling - it leaks when it rains. It doesn't look like a school; you come into the room and everything - from floor to ceiling-is in ruins," says Mariam Mkrtchyan, a graduate of the elementary school in Ltsen.

The frontier village of Ltsen in the Siunik Marz has 170 residents but no school. The building of the old seven-year school was pulled down in 1988, with the intention to build a new one. But during the Karabakh movement construction work was held up, and the village has gone without a school ever since.

"September came and there was no school building. There was a house for teachers who came from other regions to live in, and we turned it into a school. The bedrooms were turned into classrooms, because children have to go to school. The teacher's house is still the only school we have," says Aramayis Amiryan. The school has 30 pupils and nine teachers. Four of them have been sent to teach in frontier villages for five years in lieu of serving in the Army. There is no language teacher anymore; the previous one's five-year stint ended last year.

"Our village needs a school, because it is isolated from the outside world. We are not talking about a big school, but a child should feel like he's come to school when he walks into the classroom. If we don't solve the school problem, it is clear that people will leave the village, because everyone wants his or her children to have a good future, and they need an education for that," an elderly villager says.

According to tradition, during the Mongol invasion, villagers used to send a hail of rocks down onto the enemy from the top of the mountain. The poet Nerses Kertogh would encourage them, saying, "Pour, pour!" and that is where the name of the village, Ltsen, comes from, since ltsnel means pour in Armenian.

"This is a good village," says 66-year-old Asya, a mother of six. "The location is good for cultivating the land and for raising cattle. And the villagers are good people; they live in peace and harmony. We can leave our doors and our barns open for days and nobody steals anything. I am happy with my life. True - I have worked hard and suffered in my life, but I am proud of my children, I was able to give them an education, and they all grew up to be decent people

But Arusik Grigoryan says, "It's torture living in this village. We don't have time to see how the sun rises and sets - garden, house, barn, field. The bad thing is that we work so hard here, but our children have no future. That's why we try so hard not to stay, but there's no way to get out of here."

Many people left Ltsen during the 1990s, most of them because there was no school, villagers say; at one point there were only eight schoolchildren left. Over the years, though, the population of the village has increased.

People here believe that if there is a decent school, many more will settle in Ltsen. "We have applied to everyone for the school. During the elections when they need people's votes, they say everything will be fine, but we never see this 'fine'," they complain, adding that the only TV channel available here - Armenian Public Television-- often talks about the importance of the border territories, but no one ever comes to their village.

"I would ask the government to pay attention to the villages on the outskirts of Armenia ," says Alexander Manukyan. This village is so isolated from everything; it at least deserves a school. A school keeps a village together. Our village had 160-170 students, but then there were years when we had just two students. Now we have thirty. It's a good village, but if we they don't build a school, I doubt the young people will stay here."