It happened or did not happen; it is true or false.

And I forget I am an adult, have "serious thoughts", read "serious books". And I become a little kid who, sitting on the carpet with my legs crossed, all ears, waiting for another fairy story from my grandma, my mom, my neighbor.

Well, actually now I am sitting on a chair in a classroom in the French University of Armenia, and my mom or grandma is replaced with the professional tale-teller Anne and the professional actress Anna.

When someone says something that seems incredible to us, we say, "Don't tell me a fairy tale." When someone talks of a miracle, we say, "Ah, that only happens in fairy tales."

But. "The fairy tale is like life. In a fairy tale, illusion and reality are mixed. It is the same about life; one never can be sure what is real and what is illusion," says Anne.

In Armenia it would be hard to find anyone who would answer the question "What do you do?" by saying, "I am a storyteller." But in France, for instance, you would get this response from 3,000 people.

Anne Montange is one of them. Storytelling has been Anne's profession for over 25 years.

About 30 years ago a movement began in France as a result of which the oral tradition of storytelling became a field of art. In some universities in France there are even courses in storytelling. Storytelling nights and festivals are organized. There are professional storytellers in other European and Latin American countries as well.

Anne works at the Parisian Museum of Music, where she is one of eight storytellers.

Anne met the actress Anna Mkhikyan at a performance. The improvisatory actress began to speak some unknown language. But although the words were not understandable to Anne, the meaning, amazingly, was clear.

Anne came to learn that the actress and the language she was speaking were Armenian. Anna has been living in France for over six years and has been working in French theatres for two years now.

"Once I was to improvise in the play The Sea Gull by Chekhov," Anna says, "It was the moment when Masha reveals her love and is refused. At some point, I did not know what else to say, in what words to describe my feelings and I exclaimed in Armenian, "I love you, love you, don't you understand?!" And there the French actor cried out, "But I don't love you!" and he pushed me away and left. It was there when I understood the power of the Armenian oral language, its receptivity."

The idea of telling tales together and, moreover, bringing them to Armenia came a bit later.

"In France the theatres are not like Armenian ones," Anna says. "There you have to prepare a play and invite directors to its premiere, and if any of them likes it he will buy it for his theatre."

"It was the same with this performance. We spoke to the Armenian community in Paris about creating this performance and showing it in Armenia. The Armenian community agreed to fund the project. The Year of Armenia in France is coming soon so we will show the performance there as well. But the first performance is in Armenia."

"We spoke to the Armenian Puppet Theatre from France. First we decided the performance would be here but later thought that the distinction of the fairy tale is that it does not need scenery. Thus the idea to do it in the French school and French University came up."

In the white classroom in the French University, Anna and Anne tell Armenian and European folk tales, Anne in French and Anna in Armenian.

The blackboard is covered with a cloth with moons and stars on it; there is a carpet lying on the floor with known and unknown musical instruments on it. Anne brought them from France and plays them as she narrates the story.

The audience consists of lecturers and students. There are no kids here. The audience is fairly attentive and well mannered. Cellular phones rang only twice; only four people are late, only three people leave in the middle of the performance. Earlier today, in the French school, the kids were naughtier and noisier.

Anne finds it more or less natural. They are at the age when believe they have outgrown fairy tales. And the grown ups are at the age when they long to be back to that age again.

The audience actively reacts to the tellers. Especially the older members. The youth is more reserved.

"Frequently, the adults are more like kids than the children themselves," Anne smiles. "Once I was telling tales near Notre Dame, in Paris. It was 4 pm. This is the time for the old people and kids. I noticed two old ladies who came without kids and took seats in the front. I was narrating The Three Feathers by the Brothers Grimm. While telling the story I was watching them. They seemed to be arguing about something. When I finished telling the story, one of them shouted to the other, "I'm sure she's lying!"

Ann writes fairy tales herself.

"I have a story in which a pitcher tells a sterile woman what to do to get pregnant. I got a letter from a woman who wrote to me that she read the story, did everything the pitcher taught and now is waiting for the result."

"The topics of my fairy tales are different, but they are mostly about love. My tales usually begin with an old man starting to narrate the story. In Europe nowadays we do not pay much attention to our elders. No one needs them. But let us not forget that the most important knowledge we get is from them. The prominent African politician and storyteller Amadu Ampateban said, "When an old man dies, a whole library gets burnt."

"Fairy tales educate us spiritually. They teach us to overcome difficulties, to build our individuality. Fairy tales of all countries are the same because the human being is the core of them. The ways of narrating are different. For example Africans tell a story laughing, dancing. The French do it in a more reserved manner."

"I always remember the fairy tales told by my grandmother, my mother. It is amazing how long they can stay inside you even if everything else about your childhood is forgotten," Anna says. "Even the Armenians living abroad for a long time use expressions from Armenian fairy tales a lot. But the oral tradition is still ignored here, in Armenia."

"Perhaps we will manage to cooperate with the Armenian government or the French Embassy here and this visit will become a regular thing."

"Years ago I left Armenia because I was living by theatre but the profession of actress was not taken seriously here. Now it is a profession. I hope one day the same will happen to the fairy tale."

"And I believe all the factors for that are present here," Anne adds. "I was very surprised today to find out that all the kids knew the tale The Death of Kikos and were reciting it with Anna from the very first sentence. That shows that the fairy tale is still alive in Armenia."