Fresno woman sees war’s impact in social media posts to Armenian cooking Facebook group
One of my favorite Facebook groups is called “Armenian Cooking.” It is where I enjoy learning about the rich and healthy cuisine of my husband’s family heritage — so different from my own. Home cooks from the Armenian Diaspora — all over the world — post questions, recipes and searches for how to make that “delicious something” their grandmother created. Sometimes posts are written in Armenian, sometimes in broken English, other times a mixture of both.
In the past few weeks, the mood of the posts has changed. Mouthwatering Armenian recipes and photos have been replaced by prayerful hands, videos of war, and stories of people fleeing Nagorno-Karabakh (Artsakh), the Armenian enclave adjacent to Armenia but inside Azerbaijan, where war has broken out once again.
It was the photo of a newborn baby, tightly swaddled, knit cap warming her tiny head, that caught my attention. According to the post 31 babies just like her were born in Artsakh that day to families in which their fathers were fighting this dangerous and bloody war for the independence of their republic.
This war was previously fought in the 1990s with thousands of Armenians losing their lives. It ended in a weak peace, frequently interrupted in the intervening years by border skirmishes in which more lives have been lost. Artsakh, (the ancient Armenian name for the region more commonly known as Nagorno/Karabakh) is the name preferred by the ethnically Armenian people who live there and is the name I use out of respect for the people I met there. It is a small country — about the size of Tulare County with a population equal to that of Visalia.
Were it not for the coronavirus pandemic, the Fresno Medical Mission would be in Armenia and Artsakh for our sixth humanitarian mission under the leadership of Berj Apkarian, honorary consul of Armenia in Fresno. Our previous missions have provided specialized medical and surgical care for Armenians living in these two countries. My husband and I have participated in all five of these missions and had planned to be there for the sixth, which was canceled in April.
In 2016 our mission team made its first trip from Yerevan, the capital of Armenia, to Stepanakert, the capital of Artsakh. The road was treacherous, winding, and dangerous. Drivers of our vans swerved to avoid ruts and holes in the roads, often driving on the wrong side of the road. Reaching the heavily guarded border, we nervously stepped down from our vans and waited for military guards to approve our passage. Once across the border, we entered the rugged mountains — shrouded in fog, making it difficult to see the road. There were no signs of life for miles until we arrived in Stepanakert, where modern buildings rose almost as an “emerald city” in white. We were told the city was modern because it had been rebuilt after the previous war, which ended in 1994.
After checking into our hotel, we set out in search of dinner. Walking through the town, which was dark and quiet, we passed through half a mile of empty white tent-kiosks standing ready for what we learned would be the annual fall festival taking place the next day. We were excited to meet the people and celebrate their harvest.
In the morning, we woke to a city bustling with activity as vendors occupied their designated tents and displayed their goods. Farmers brought recently harvested fruits, vegetables, and grains of all sorts; live chickens, ducks, and pigs. Recently slaughtered lamb was spread out on tables with small fires charring pieces of the skewered meat. Beekeepers brought wild honey harvested from the forests. Wine makers brought their wines produced from grapes grown in the rich mountainous soil of the region.
But, it was the people who captured my heart. It seemed that everyone was out — even the president who members of our team met while walking through the exhibits. There was a calmness in the people, underscoring their satisfaction of their life of simplicity. Children, dressed in their finest clothing, eyes widened by the bounty surrounding them, held the hands of their proud parents and grandparents.
They are who I think about as I watch the news and read of the escalation of war in Artsakh. When I see pictures of bombs destroying the city of Stepanakert, I think of the children and families and of babies being born among the bombs. It is the gentleness of the people of Artsakh that I remember. I reflect on their contentment with life in its simplicity at the festival that day. I also think of the children I met in the hospitals where I worked that week, and pray for their safety and for peace to be restored to their lives. I think of the baby in the photo and hope she is safe and warm and that her father comes home to her.
Once this pandemic is over, Fresno’s Medical Mission will return to help Armenia and Artsakh recover from this war. Our surgeons will repair wounded soldiers. Our medical team will heal bodies and souls. Some of us will continue working with children and families to promote their well-being. Our hope today is for peace and permanent resolution of the conflict endangering the people of Artsakh. I wish we were there.
Marion Karian of Fresno was the founder of Exceptional Parents Unlimited. Since retirement, she and her husband have participated in five Medical Missions to Armenia. She can be reached at mkarian@sbcglobal.net.
This story was originally published October 25, 2020 at 7:00 AM.