Today, I start a new adventure. I am leaving my family, home and hearth to go to Armenia, the land of my ancestors. I've saved and planned for a long time for this trip. Reading everything I can find about the history, culture, traditions, and geology of this land. I know that two weeks will not be enough to see and experience everything in this place, that is roughly the size of the county I live in.
To breath the air, taste the food, smell the smells, to talk to the trees, to touch the ancient stones... these are the things that I have dreamt about for a very long time. I just wish my family could be there with me.
To paraphrase Tolkien; I don't know if I will make it back alive, and if I do, I will not be the same person.
Sunday, May 07, 2017
Thursday, April 20, 2017
Remember Zeytun, remember the Armenians. Our revenge was that we survived and prospered.
I am Armenian, I am Fundijaktsiner, we are revolutionaries. We helped light the spark that started a great fire.
My grandfather was born in 1881, he lived in a small mountain village called Fundejak in Turkey, which is near the city of Marash. He spent is early years raising grapes and wheat.
In 1865, and later in 1895, the Turks attacked a nearby village of Zeytun, where my grandmother and her family was from, because the Zeytuntsiner were harboring the Social Democrat Hunchakian Party, which called for a revolution in Turkey. In both instances the Armenians of Zeytun held off the Turks, until France and the other major European nations intervened and negotiated a peace, thereby ending the resistance.
Still, life was not good for Armenians in Turkey, and many families sought to leave Turkey for other countries. My grandfather was one of them, leaving for California in 1913. His wife and three children stayed behind in Zeytun with her family.
With the start of WWI, and the rise of the Young Turks, who overthrew the Sultan, the Turks set out for revenge against the Armenians, particularly in Zeytun. The Zeytuntsiner fought a battle against overwhelming odds, finally abandoning their stronghold and taking refuge in Fundejak. On July 26, 1915 the Turks attacked Fundejak and were surprised, overwhelmed, and captured by the Armenian resistance. The next day, the Fundejak and Zeytun fighters executed the prisoners and burned six neighboring villages which housed Turkish settlers brought into the region after the 1895 revolt.
Soon after, the Turks brought in over 8,000 regular troops, along with numerous mountain guns. They massacred the resistance, and sent the women and children off into the Syrian desert to die.
My grandmother escaped with her brother, but lost all of her children. Girls were raped, put into harems or forced into servitude, and boys that weren't circumcised were stabbed and left to die. She made it to Beirut, where she lived for a number of years. Her brother joined the French foreign legion serving in Morocco. Once he obtained his citizenship, they moved to Marseille.
My grandfather, helpless to do anything, enlisted in the US army. Once he was discharged, he moved to Porterville, CA and started a grape orchard. He was reunited with my grandmother in 1928 They had two more children together, one being my father, who was born in 1931
This is our story. I tell it because those who survived it were humiliated and crushed by what happened to them. They wont talk about it.
I encourage you all to go see the movie "The Promise", out in theatres today.
My grandfather was born in 1881, he lived in a small mountain village called Fundejak in Turkey, which is near the city of Marash. He spent is early years raising grapes and wheat.
In 1865, and later in 1895, the Turks attacked a nearby village of Zeytun, where my grandmother and her family was from, because the Zeytuntsiner were harboring the Social Democrat Hunchakian Party, which called for a revolution in Turkey. In both instances the Armenians of Zeytun held off the Turks, until France and the other major European nations intervened and negotiated a peace, thereby ending the resistance.
Still, life was not good for Armenians in Turkey, and many families sought to leave Turkey for other countries. My grandfather was one of them, leaving for California in 1913. His wife and three children stayed behind in Zeytun with her family.
With the start of WWI, and the rise of the Young Turks, who overthrew the Sultan, the Turks set out for revenge against the Armenians, particularly in Zeytun. The Zeytuntsiner fought a battle against overwhelming odds, finally abandoning their stronghold and taking refuge in Fundejak. On July 26, 1915 the Turks attacked Fundejak and were surprised, overwhelmed, and captured by the Armenian resistance. The next day, the Fundejak and Zeytun fighters executed the prisoners and burned six neighboring villages which housed Turkish settlers brought into the region after the 1895 revolt.
Soon after, the Turks brought in over 8,000 regular troops, along with numerous mountain guns. They massacred the resistance, and sent the women and children off into the Syrian desert to die.
My grandmother escaped with her brother, but lost all of her children. Girls were raped, put into harems or forced into servitude, and boys that weren't circumcised were stabbed and left to die. She made it to Beirut, where she lived for a number of years. Her brother joined the French foreign legion serving in Morocco. Once he obtained his citizenship, they moved to Marseille.
My grandfather, helpless to do anything, enlisted in the US army. Once he was discharged, he moved to Porterville, CA and started a grape orchard. He was reunited with my grandmother in 1928 They had two more children together, one being my father, who was born in 1931
This is our story. I tell it because those who survived it were humiliated and crushed by what happened to them. They wont talk about it.
I encourage you all to go see the movie "The Promise", out in theatres today.
The Gods favor the bold
I'm trying to help my adult children find a career. I have listened to them over the years. Their hopes and dreams, and their interests. Then recently I read an article by Mike Rowe that talks about the importance of Trade schools to the future of this country. My oldest wants to be an auto mechanic, my youngest daughter wants to be a chef, my third daughter wants to be a beautician.
Do what you love, and you'll never work a day in your life.
So, I got on a campaign to help them get into trade school. I took each one on a tour of the schools, driving a considerable distance to do so. We helped them get financial aid and worked out the details on how they could find a job and get a place. It so happens that all the schools are in the same city, relatively close to one another. So it is of great advantage for them to get a place together and share the cost.
That is where everything went wrong.
They all want to bring their romantic companions. Well, it just so happens that all of their mates don't have jobs, or ambitions, or brains in their heads. Instead I have seen them subtly sabotage, in one way or another, their plans to move. I guess misery loves company and they would rather have my daughters go no where and forget about their dreams.
Of course, then I confront my children about this drag they get very defensive and angry with me. So, I have steadily watched them succumb to this selfish manipulation and start to sabotage themselves. They don't want to tell Dad that they have changed their mind.
I have passive-aggressive behavior.
So, I get to watch a train wreck. It is as much my dream to see them chase their ambitions as it is for them to find their boldness.
Do what you love, and you'll never work a day in your life.
So, I got on a campaign to help them get into trade school. I took each one on a tour of the schools, driving a considerable distance to do so. We helped them get financial aid and worked out the details on how they could find a job and get a place. It so happens that all the schools are in the same city, relatively close to one another. So it is of great advantage for them to get a place together and share the cost.
That is where everything went wrong.
They all want to bring their romantic companions. Well, it just so happens that all of their mates don't have jobs, or ambitions, or brains in their heads. Instead I have seen them subtly sabotage, in one way or another, their plans to move. I guess misery loves company and they would rather have my daughters go no where and forget about their dreams.
Of course, then I confront my children about this drag they get very defensive and angry with me. So, I have steadily watched them succumb to this selfish manipulation and start to sabotage themselves. They don't want to tell Dad that they have changed their mind.
I have passive-aggressive behavior.
So, I get to watch a train wreck. It is as much my dream to see them chase their ambitions as it is for them to find their boldness.
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
The life in Spring
For whatever reason today I was going over old posts in my blog and was uplifted and filled with happiness and energy.
I am about a month away from my next journey. I am going to Armenia this year, the land of my ancestors. I get to taste the air and talk to the trees of my one, true homeland.
There is not much more to say about it. Perhaps I will find my true self there.
I am about a month away from my next journey. I am going to Armenia this year, the land of my ancestors. I get to taste the air and talk to the trees of my one, true homeland.
There is not much more to say about it. Perhaps I will find my true self there.
Monday, January 23, 2017
I left my heart in Rome
Rome... the capitol of the world. Capua Mundi.
I think it is safe to say that I have dreamt about that place every night since I returned home. It captured my heart and my imagination.
The food was absolutely incredible. Pasta, pastries, bread, meat, honey...
They served honey off the comb. It ran down onto a plate like a golden waterfall in slow motion.
The buildings, the people, the trees, the air.
At the Coliseum I walked for hours through the forum, past Trajan's column, through the National Museum, and on to the Pantheon. Seeing that ancient temple took my breath away. Like a giant artifact tucked away amongst the city. The columns all spoke to me, and the ghosts of that city danced around my every step. In the forum I sat at the place where Julius Caesar was cremated. I picked a flower from his pile of ashes. I even got to leave a coin as a memento of my visit. Trevi fountain was a miracle of art.
The next day we went to the Vatican museum. I walked the entire length. I got to see in person artifacts and artwork that I had only seen in books.
So, you may be bored reading my description of all of this. You may say to yourself, so what? Good for you... who cares?
It was all a very personal and emotional visit to this ancient place. I left a bit of myself there, and took a bit of it with me. In balance, I think I would like to spend the rest of my life in Rome as a street vendor or a beggar. Perhaps I could sell food or give tours of the historic sites?
If only.
I think it is safe to say that I have dreamt about that place every night since I returned home. It captured my heart and my imagination.
The food was absolutely incredible. Pasta, pastries, bread, meat, honey...
They served honey off the comb. It ran down onto a plate like a golden waterfall in slow motion.
The buildings, the people, the trees, the air.
At the Coliseum I walked for hours through the forum, past Trajan's column, through the National Museum, and on to the Pantheon. Seeing that ancient temple took my breath away. Like a giant artifact tucked away amongst the city. The columns all spoke to me, and the ghosts of that city danced around my every step. In the forum I sat at the place where Julius Caesar was cremated. I picked a flower from his pile of ashes. I even got to leave a coin as a memento of my visit. Trevi fountain was a miracle of art.
The next day we went to the Vatican museum. I walked the entire length. I got to see in person artifacts and artwork that I had only seen in books.
So, you may be bored reading my description of all of this. You may say to yourself, so what? Good for you... who cares?
It was all a very personal and emotional visit to this ancient place. I left a bit of myself there, and took a bit of it with me. In balance, I think I would like to spend the rest of my life in Rome as a street vendor or a beggar. Perhaps I could sell food or give tours of the historic sites?
If only.
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