Turkey run, Turkey hide

          April 24^th is a day of mourning, recognition, and demonstration for Armenians all around the world. April 24, 1915 was the day in history where the Ottoman government organized to gather all Armenian intellectuals and community leaders and subsequently execute them. Each year Armenians gather in their communities to mourn the loss of the 1.5 million victims and protest for rightful recognition from their government. Every year since I was 10, I can remember going to the demonstrations in Washington, D.C., where we would gather in front of the Turkish embassy, armed with megaphones and posters. Some of the slogans that I remember the most vividly are “Turkey run, Turkey hide, Turkey guilty of genocide” and “Eastern Turkey is Western Armenia”. I always understood the need for us to recognize the events of 1915 as genocide, but it wasn’t until coming to Armenia that I realized that April 24 is also about remembering the past and actively being a part of Armenia’s future – the Turks didn’t win!

Torch in hand

In Yerevan, the events started on April 23. The torch march is organized by the ARF, or Tashnagsutyun party (a party with which I find myself more and more aligned...). We gathered in front of the opera house in the evening, just as the sun was beginning to set. Among numerous ARF flags, there was a group of guys preparing a Turkish flag to set on fire. This event is heavily debated among Armenians; I feel like the concept is childish, but seeing the flag burning unleashed a lot of bottled up anger I have towards Turkey’s government and towards Islam. I understand that burning of a flag does no good when trying to move forward and realize Armenia’s potential as a country in the Caucasus Mountains. But I also understand that any trade agreements and peace offerings will forever be superficial until the Armenian genocide is recognized by Turkey. 

ARF and Armenian flags at Liberty Square

Torch wall led by AYF

With a torch in hand, we marched to Tsitsenakabert.  Unlike anything political, this movement was fully supported and protected by Armenia’s police force. Tens of thousands of people made the 5 kilometer walk to the memorial, led by the ARF party in Armenia. As the sun set, it became dark and one could see the march of torches all throughout the city. I was walking with my friend Tveen, a Canadian-Armenian who has been living in Hayastan since she was 12, and her cousin Varant, who was also experiencing his first April 24 in the motherland. Tveen knows the ins and outs of April 24, and was able to tell us all about the history of the event in Armenia. We could hear people chanting “Amman amman, Turkiye maman! Kani ankam? Hazar ankam!”, which translates to an aggressive call-response against Turks. Again, the messages are controversial. I could really feel the anger and resentment towards Turkey when I heard those words. I feel like as Armenians in the USA, we are really just focused on the United States' relations with Turkey and less on Armenia. These strong words are addressing the past and how our ancestors were systematically slaughtered, their perpetrators remaining unpunished and in denial. When Turkey comes around to recognize what it did and stop playing the blame game, I’ll warm up to the idea of forgiveness. Until then, I’ll stick to my accurate portrayal of Turks and Azeris as the ones who are dancing in DC, celebrating their crimes and wishing that they had ‘finished the job’ (quotes found on facebook)  

Turks responding to their crimes

With Tveen!

Lots o flowers

The darkness and anger that I was feeling was brought back to life by the thousands of people who came together to mourn, demonstrating that all Armenians, from all political parties, can mourn for our lost ones. Once we reached the top, Tveen and I parted ways for the night. Varant and I walked all the way back into the city center, both very tired and hungry!

April 24 was a bit different. Streets were empty. The city was quiet, each citizen paying his or her respects some time that day. I joined Raffi Hovannisian and his family on their walk again from Liberty Square to the Genocide Memorial. Once we reached the base of the memorial, our pace slowed to a crawl. The entire process seemed a bit too robotish, with police controlling the flow of people into the memorial itself. I was lucky enough to bump into Garin and Larisa, and we got a good view of what was going on. Unfortunately the guard manning the wall of flowers told me to “dzaghit tir yev sharunage” (put your flower down and move along), which sort of ruined the sentimental mood (which I rarely experience). I wanted to stick around and feel the emotion and atmosphere but I was put off by the crowds. Fortunately, I returned in the evening (3^rd time) with Tveen, her parents, Varant, and his mom.  It was quiet, dark, and chilly – but we were able to witness the 5 foot wall of flowers that surrounded the eternal flame. That five feet of sheer flower power embodied the resilience that Armenians have to recognize their losses and stay strong, even through grief. The Canadian-American-Armenian Diasporan group I was with that evening is living proof that the Turks did not win. We are not only alive, but in Armenia – in an effort to bring our dreams about Armenia to realization.

With Varant - fellow first timer of April 24 in Armenia

Flower collection during the day...