By Maneh Grigoryan

During Germany lessons, all of us would immerse ourselves in a language that would open borders to another country…a country where it seemed doors would open before us.

We didn’t take conscious steps to break those doors or to fly through them like spirits. No; it was more than easy. Those doors would open before our mere presence. They are waiting for us. We are beautiful, young, and full of ideas. It is only in our country that we sell our time and energy for two Euros at best…Where we exhaust our imagination to the point that even humor doesn’t save us.

I first saw Anna at a German class. She was a friend of someone in the group. She had come to Armenian to work as a hospital volunteer for a year. Her mother is German; her father Armenian.

After class she would say that Armenia was such an open country where people relate directly with one another. There was such charisma. We looked at each other. That which upset us was warm and exotic for Anna who came from cold Germany.

For us, such directness was a sign of disrespect for another’s personal space.

We do not have the key to our personal, very intimate, deep world. Our doors are always open. Our diaries are our lives lived in the open – so visible to others. She asks if we’ll be returning. We say nothing.

I decided to talk to Anna. I arrived at the Square fifteen minutes late. Anna wasn’t there. I wanted to ask her if she felt more German or Armenian. By the time I got there I decided I wouldn’t ask her; that she’s a German deep down. Our concepts regarding time are different. A person who earns one Euro per hour doesn’t value time. That’s why the morning breaks late in our country. She’s definitely a German.

I ring my lesson instructor. “Gog, she got here with her German punctuality, saw I wasn’t here and left.” Gog tells me – No, she’s an Armenian as well. So I call her and it turns out we got our signals crossed about the meeting place and that she’s waiting for me. So, she must be Armenian.

On the way from Republic Square to Shrdjanayin, Anna told me about her family.

In Europe, all 14-15 year-olds have the opportunity to go on vacation by themselves. At first, the only chance to vacation alone was to come to Armenia on the Ari Tun (Come Home) program.  She told me she tried to imagine what kind of country Armenia was like. It didn’t even have seashore. At home, her father and grandmother spoke the language of Armenia, but that couldn’t tell her anything about the country itself. Later on, she would see that in addition to the absence of an ocean, they cut down trees, and decrease spaces…that everything is very small. Gohar, also in my language class, romantically said that Armenia is small enough to embrace.

Marion, Anna’s Mother, Talks about Living between Two Cultures

My husband’s family comes from Turkey. I think that men who’ve lived in Turkey are greatly different from men in Yerevan. I say this even though I know no one in Yerevan. Please note that these are my feelings based only on my family and not the Armenian people.

Being married to an Armenian man isn’t easy. In Germany, when people marry, everything refers to just the two of them. In the Armenian version, it feels like you are marrying the man’s entire family. When there’s a problem, everyone gets involved and meddles. This can have a positive side as well in some respects. When there’s a big family relationships are stronger.

In an Armenian family, it’s hard to feel any permanent distribution of roles between husband and wife. The wife has no right to say no and she shouldn’t have her own opinions. That’s hard for me to swallow since my parents raised me to always use my brain and to voice my views.

There are those in my husband’s family who are always telling you what’s right or wrong even if it really is or isn’t. I would struggle long and hard to get my voice heard. Now, my husband does listen to me and I try to inculcate my kids to have a sense of self-identity, even though it’s been hard.

The other problem was one I used to have an argument with my children. Everyone would meddle and the problem just got bigger.

My children were baptized as Armenian Apostolic even though I’m Protestant and kids in Germany can be baptized according to their mother’s religion. What was important for me was that they were baptized and raised as Christians.

I had a hard time living with my in-laws. I always feared doing the wrong thing in their eyes. My husband would tell me that I had to strive to be even better than your average Armenian woman so that I wouldn’t be the butt of criticism.

The first thing differentiating German and Armenian families is the unity and warmness of the latter. Germans are frequently very cold and devoid of emotions. They are afraid of showing their true feelings. They are very good natured but they only live for law and order and work. No fun times or warmth. It’s different for Armenians. They are very warm and open hearted. The two people have their good and bad sides. We are trying to include the only the good when it comes to raising our children.

Anna’s Life – Between Two Cultures

There came a time when Anna refused being Armenian. She lived in a neighborhood where there were many Turks. They knew that Anna and her sisters were Armenian and so they insulted her. It was hard for Anna. Her grandma and the family told her to stay away from the Turks. They didn’t want any good for her. So Anna thought what sense is there in being Armenian. When her grandma spoke Armenian, Anna would tell her – I don’t understand you; I’m German. I thought that our family was a bit crazy. Then I came here to Armenia and…

When I asked if there were problems, she answered that there were. Her grandma wanted to turn Anna's mother into an Armenian girl. This led to quarrels and problems. Naturally, the mother backed down on many issues with time. But there was still the contradiction between “us and them”.

Anna says that she doesn’t know her German family very well; that they are aloof. She adds that her mom, who grew up in that German family environment, wasn’t able to adapt to a new way of life where everyone knows about the problems of others, where they help each other, and where such things are discussed collectively.

In addition, however much they say that Germans are a tolerant lot and that Germany is truly a multi-cultural country, there is the concept of ‘outsiders’. Then too, those who have seen war are Nazis. Her father is also an outsider because he is Armenian. Her mom, in turn, thought she was a foreigner to that Armenian family.

“I’ve always sat in the middle of my two families; the German and Armenian. I’ve never knew which one was the right one.  When I was little, my mom told me that I was unlucky and that my father was to blame for that. And I believed my mother. Then I grew up and understood that he wasn’t to blame and that really no one was,” Anna says.

On the one side of the table sits her Armenian grandma; on the other, her German…

Anna says that her cousin pays rent to their German grandma for a room he lives in because he goes to school in the same town where she lives.

For her Armenian grandma, that would be an insult.

Talking about German family life

Anna told me about the time when she visited the house of a German friend. It was supper time and the family sat down to eat and left Anna in the other room by herself. Anna said she thought about saying something; that she too could use a bite to eat. She finally said that she was hungry as well. The family was somewhat taken aback but agreed to let her sit with them. Her friend told Anna to open the fridge and take anything she wanted.

Anna grabbed some cheese but was told by her friend that the cheese belonged to her brother and was off-limits. Sure enough, his name was written on the wrapper.

Anna’s mom wanted for her and her sisters to learn about life from their experiences and mistakes. Her father couldn’t fathom this idea – how could he let his girl to go off on her own?

Anna wants to live in Armenia after finishing school in Germany and to marry an Armenia.

When I asked her what she doesn’t like about Armenia she answered – the absence of bicycles.

If only we could have a place in our souls for a bit of such romanticism; to leave the big troubles behind and paint bicycle lanes.

While it sometimes seems that Yerevan is being beautified – new benches, planting flowers, erecting the statue of the independent journalist – so that we forget about just how little they are paying us and how we collapse at the end of a day of hard work on the couch, unable to listen to the laughter and crying of our kids…intolerably tired.

As we walk, Anna remarks – everyone in Armenia drives like they are all-powerful.

This is the cordial country of the all-powerful…Welcome, Anna.

Top photo – Anna Ohanyan

Second photo – Anna’s extended family

Third photo – Anna, her parents and sisters