ՔԵՍՊՈՒ ԳԵՐՈՆՔԸ (THE SPRING OF KESSAB)

ՔԵՍՊՈՒ ԳԵՐՈՆՔԸ (THE SPRING OF KESSAB)

By Father Hamazasp Kechichian

Translated by: Vahe H. Apelian

Father Hamazasp Kechichian penned this poem in Kessab dialect on the occasion of the second anniversary of the exodus of the Kessabtsis on March 21, 2014, the first day of spring.

An edible Kessab native plant that grows early spring in the wild

Գերօնքը Քեսպու (The spring of Kessab)

Նա միէկ տիեղ չըգու, (there is no other,)

Ծառիրը ծաղկուօծ, (the trees blossomed,)

Լառռօնքը կանչըրրուօծ, (the mountains greened,)

չըտտիրը նըստուօծ, (the birds seated,)

ծառիրէն հա էվչին։ (chirp from the trees.)

Ծաղկօնքը ըրանկուօն (Colurful flowers)

էնոշ հուտտիրուօն, (exude pleasant aroma,)

ծուօվը ըրկընքէն հիտ (the sea with the sky)

միէկ իղօծ կէպըտուօն, (meshed into a blue patch,)

Ճաննաթ ի էսիս եօն։ (Heaven, as if, it is.)

Ըրկը տէրի եարանչ, (Two years ago,)

սիւ էմպօնք իկէն, (black clouds descended,)

Էսիս սատանաքը (you may say the devils,)

միր ըրվան հուճումիցէն։ (fell upon us.)

Նատուօր վուօխ, ցուօվ, (How much fear and pain,)

Քէսպըցէն էպրիցուօվ, (Kessabtsis experienced,)

Մաաճըրը լսուօծ էրէնք, (we had heard of the Exodus,)

Ամմա հիչ չըպելլերէնք, (but we had never envisioned,)

քի մինք ըլի պըր տըսնենք, (that we shall also experience,)

պէպկըննիրէն հագաթուօծը, (things grandparents had told us,)

թալանտէն, իրինց քիշուօծը։ (the plunders, the things they suffered.)

Նատուօր դժուօր էրէն, (How difficult were,)

ատ ուրիրը չըթըմմերէն, (those seemingly unending days,)

Էսիս սաաթը կիցուօծ էր, (as if time had stood still,)

աշխէրքէս իտիշքը իկուօծ էր։ (the end of the world was upon us.)

Էմըն ուօր հա հիյերէնք, (Every day we waited,)

ումուօտ կ՚ուներէնք, (we had hope,)

աղուր խեպըրնէն։ (for the good news.)

Իկիք ադ ուօրը, (that day came,)

էնուօշ խեպուօրը, (the sweet news,)

դըքը պուօրըտ հեսուօվ, (spread all the way to Beirut,)

Անճարը խընտուօց։ (Anjar was jubilant.)

Աստուօծ ճուպեպից, (God had answered,)

միր աղութքնէն լըսից. (our prayers, he had listened,)

Քեսպըցէք դարձուն, (the Kessabtsis returned,)

ամմա չէ՞ տիսուն, (but what did they see?)

տընվէն փըլլուօծ վառուօծ, (Their houses plundered, torched)

ալէք բուն գուղցըվուօծ, (everything was stolen,)

պախչընէն չարցուօծ, (the orchards had dried up,)

մեվսըմը տերվէն, (the harvest of the year,)

ֆիթուօծ էր գիտէն։ (was cast on the ground.)

Լուօցը չէ ֆայտա, (Crying is no remedy,)

նաղվընուօս ում ըրվա։ (complaint to whom?)

Առջընիէն պաշլիցեն, (they started from the beginning,)

տընվեն շինիցեն, (the houses, they rebuilt,)

կըղիցէքը ուշնիցեն (the churches, they sanctified,)

մէքթեպնէն կինա բեցեն։ (the schools, they opened anew.)

Վասիոթը պեպկըննիրէն,  (The legacy of their forefathers,)

Լիզզօն, հեւօտը, ատաթնէն, (the language, the faith, the customs,)

դըքըր իսուօր հա էպրէն։ (they uphold to this day.)

Չըմընուօց առջըվէն քեսուօպը, (Kessab of yesterday ceased to exist,)

քէն միէկ հառվըցուն գեցէն (how many left the village,)

ղիեր միէկ հա հիյա էր նուօպը, (others are waiting their turn,)

նուր աշխուօր, բուն հա բեթվէն, (new world, work they seek,)

թըղ ուրթուն Աստուօծ հիտվընէն, (let them go, God be with them,)

Աթապ չինինք նա միկիէն, (we blame no one,)

աղուր ուրիր, սաղլըք ալըննէն։ (good days and health for all.)

Գուլէ չի, ամմա չէ ըլի ըննու, (It is not easy, but come what may,)

Մինք չընք հարվընու Քեսպու, (we will not abandon Kessab,)

Չումքի միր պեպկըննիրը եոն աղութուօծ ին, (because our forefathers prayed there,)

Դետուօծ, քըրտենք վիրեն ֆիթուօծ ին։ (toiled, shed sweat and blood, there.)

Father Hamazasp Kechichian

Քեսպըցէք աշխօրքիս դուրըր կաք, (Kessabtsis wherever you are in this world,)

գիմաթլը լելկըննիր աղբըրտաք, (much-valued sisters and brothers,)

ձիր տուօնը գիեղը, հընտնէքը, (your home, your village, your family,)

ատաթնէն, քեսպընօյը չմառնաք։ (your heritage, your language, do not forget.)

Հառռօ ինք ամմա ձառք ձարա, (We are apart, but hand-in-hand)

եարտըմինք, Քեսօպը պիհիլա, (let us assist keeping Kessab,)

հեսնէնք ալըննէն ձառ մինկինք, (let us reach out to all, extend a helping hand,)

շինինք, բուն ուտունք, քաջալերինք։ (let us build, contribute, and encourage.)

Քեսպու գերօնքը տըսնենք պարապուօր, (The Kessab spring, let us rejoice together,)

Օնկընէն էնոշ բունը մի հեմուօր։ (the sweetest thing for us all.)

#RebuildKessab

Karkaz of Keurkune

Vahe H. Apelian

Symmes Park is one the many public parks that graces greater Cincinnati and is situated a walking distance from our house. Some years ago the park experienced an unusual happening. An owl nested on the decapitated trunk of what once must have been a large tree. The Park Rangers placed signs in the vicinity of the tree trunk alerting the attendants to respect the privacy of the nested owl. Respect they did. Pretty soon the news of the nesting owl spread all over the city. The curiosity it generated would have stirred in the envy of any celebrity. In the evening a multitude of onlookers armed with expensive looking binoculars, telescopes mounted on tripods, movie and picture cameras with huge lenses, attentively watched the nest from a safe distance. Their curiosity mounted as the hatchling with a voracious appetite started to grow and flip its wings in preparation for the day when it too will flee its nest. The growing chick rewarded the few diehard vigils when one day in plain view took its wings and flew from the nest.  

The summer-long vigil of the nestling owl reminded me of the lone pair of the big black birds that nestled on the rocky hilltop overlooking the spring that sustained Keurkune, our ancestral village. The villagers called the birds Karkaz. We were not as respectful of their privacy as the Cincinnatians were of the owl. Fortunately for the nesting pair, we could not access their nest secured at the far edge over a steep precipitation.

We had gotten a bit older when we managed to visit the nest over that dangerous rocky edge. It was at the end of our summer-long stay in Keurkune and nestling pair had already left the nest along with the chick they raised. We took turn. One of us lay on his belly over the rock, held the arms of the other who slid on his belly over the rock and descended onto the nest. It was a very dangerous and a very foolish thing to do. There was barely room for standing in the nest at the bottom of the rock over the deep precipitation right below. Other than feathers I do not recall seeing anything else, not even bones of the preys they caught. We ascended the cliff in the same manner. The next summer or the following, the lone Karkaz pair stopped nesting in Keurkune and never returned. To this day I remember their graceful flight hovering over the village and its surroundings high against the blue sky in search of prey and wonder if they were among the few pairs, left much like the California Candors.

We were over half a dozen village urchins. Some of us came to Keurkune during the summers, while the others lived there all year around. We were, what the western sociologists would call, the heralds of the post World War II baby boom generation. But, I doubt that the World War II and its aftermath had anything to do with us. Greater Kessab and the Kessabtsis in Lebanon and Syria pretty much continued their daily routine as the European powers blew each other apart. The War for them was a distant happening.

We were related to each other in some manner in that exclusively Armenian village, Keurkune. We had our own rite of passage from childhood into our pre-teens and then beyond. Each one of us boys started wearing brick red colored leather shoes we called Yemeni. This type of shoe essentially consisted of two types of leather. The sole was made of hard leather on which brick red colored softer leather was shaped with a single knob on an ankle strap for buckling. The first thing my uncle Joseph did, when I went there for my summer-long stays, was to take me to Kessab, the main village, and have my foot sized for the yemeni I was to wear for that summer.

I do not remember how old I was when I made the transition from wearing the Yemeni shoes into the shoe that essentially all men wore. We called this type of shoes sandal. The shoe consisted of a rubber sole made by shaping rubber tire on which a black colored leather was shaped with a silver buckle on one or two ankle straps. Adults also wore the boot variety of the same fabric and called it Jezme. Some men had one additional pair of shoes for formal occasions such as Sunday church service or at weddings. These formal shoes were called Kondra, which is a Turkish word for shoe. We were in our sandals when we were entrusted with muzzle gun to do our own hunting of birds.

Loading the muzzle gun in preparation to hunt down a bird was a ceremony in itself. It consisted of placing gunpowder into the barrel followed by a piece of cloth. The cloth was then firmly packed with a barrel long rod that was placed along the barrel. Following the gunpowder, the barrel was loaded with ball bearings that were also similarly packed. We carried the gunpowder and the ball bearings in bottles in a shoulder bag each one of us carried I realize now that loading the gun in this manner served a good purpose as well. It limited the number of birds one could hunt in a day.

Much like the Karkaz chicks that grew in the nest and flew the coop, we also left Keurkune in time. The seemingly vast expanse of Keurkune of our childhood became confining. The allure of worlds far beyond got the better hold of our teenage imagination and one by one, all of us in our immediate generation moved away. We left the village behind, but the village never left us. We had made a pact, come what may, we will meet again in the year 2000 in Keurkune but we never did. The world and we had moved on far differently than our imagination could envision during our youthful carefree days in Keurkune.

Love During Medz Yeghern

Love During Medz Yeghern

Vahe H. Apelian

The award-winning novelist Chris Bohjalian wrote the Sandcastle Girls in 2002. The news of the novel's publication was enthusiastically anticipated and received by the Armenian community, even before it hit bookstore shelves.

A quarter-of-century before Sandcastle Girls, journalist and editor Antranig Dzarougian (Անդրանիկ Ծառուկեան) wrote a novel in Western Armenian titled Love in the Yeghern (Սէրը Եղեռնին Մէջ). Medz Yeghern is a term that the survivors of the Armenian Genocide coined to refer to the horrible reality of their dispossession, of their loss of loved ones and of property, and the loss of their millennia-old way of life on their ancestral lands.

Both novels are love stories. Sandcastle Girls is a story within a story. Amazon.com describes with these words: “When Elizabeth Endicott arrives in Aleppo, Syria, she has a diploma from Mount Holyoke, a crash course in nursing, and only the most basic grasp of the Armenian language. It’s 1915, and Elizabeth has volunteered to help deliver food and medical aid to Armenian Genocide survivors. There she meets Armen, a young Armenian engineer who has already lost his wife and infant daughter. After leaving Aleppo and traveling to Egypt to join the British Army, he begins writing to Elizabeth, realizing that he has fallen in love with the wealthy young American. 
 Years later, their American granddaughter, Laura, embarks on a journey through her family history, uncovering a story of love, loss—and a wrenching secret that has been buried for generations.”

Love in the Yeghern is based on the true love story of the eminent early 20th-century Armenian poet Roupen Sevag, who studied medicine in Switzerland and fell in love and married a German woman. The novel is a true depiction of their love story with a fictional rendering of their daily lives and their interactions with the community leaders of the day and about the cultural and their political state of affairs of the Armenians in the Ottoman Empire. Most of the other characters in the book are also depictions of prominent Istanbul Armenians. The characters are referred to either by their first or family names. However, for anyone who has a basic knowledge of Western Armenian culture that blossomed after remaining dormant for centuries and hit its zenith just before the Genocide, it would not be difficult to surmise who Dzarougian refers to when he describes characters named Varoujan, Adom, Zartarian and many more.

Roupen Chilingirian Sevag was born in Silvri, Ottoman Empire on Feb. 15, 1885. After graduating from the famed Berberian Armenian School in Istanbul he went to Lausanne, Switzerland where he studied medicine and fell in love and married a vibrant woman named Janni Apell. Instead of remaining in Europe, the young couple decided to return to Istanbul in 1914 with their two children and build their home there, among Roupen’s community. Their decision proved to be fatal.  Roupen was arrested not long after, on April 24, 1915, and was tortured to death on August 26, 1915, in Çankır (Chankir), Turkey along with poets Taniel Varoujan, Siamanto and others. He was 30-years-old.

Sevag is known for his patriotic and humanistic poetry. He is fondly remembered to this day. In 1995, a school was named after him in Yerevan. In 2011 Armenia issued a stamp in his honor. In the 1980s Roupen Sevag’s nephew, Hovhannes Chilingirian, founded and ran the Roupen Sevag family museum in Nice (France). Along with artifacts the museum displayed his paintings. Roupen Sevag was also an accomplished painter. The museum was moved to Holy Etchmiadzin in 2013.

After her husband’s death, Janni took her children and moved to Switzerland. Distraught that German government did not heed her calls and abandoned her husband she vowed not to utter German in her home and refused to teach her children a word, German. She became an award-winning French writer and upheld the memory of her husband until her death in 1967.  Their son Levon Chilingirian passed away in 2005 at the age of 93. Their daughter Shamiram died last year in Nice, France at the age of 102.

Dzarougian depicts Sevag's wife in the Love in the Yegher, as follows: “Janine wrote poetry in French and published them in books. One of her books received an award from the French Academy. She lived engrossed in her books and in her children Levon and Shamiram. With the passing years ashes covered her hair, but not her heart. Her heart remained fresh and vibrant defying time and the years with an indifference but always open, always graceful on white pages and in her thoughts with her Roupen…”.

Kourken Mekhitarian noted in his review of Armenian literature that following his death Sevag had emerged as a tragic but iconic and heroic figure and that his life could be the subject of a captivating novel. Dzarougian’s novel Love in Yeghern makes for a captivating reading and makes justice to the young couple’s love story. The novel awaits translation.

It was MEDZ YEGHERN

It was MEDZ YEGHERN

Vahe H. Apelian

I was brought up in Armenian schools commemorating the Metz Yeghern (Մեծ Եղեռն), The Big Crime that befell on the Armenians in 1915. The word yeghern has an inherent sadness embedded in it and it’s not meant to imply crime in the ordinary sense for which we have the word vojir. In spite of the fact that the word genocide was well coined by then, the descriptive term Metz Yeghern was more commonly used. I remember attending an exhibition of the Medz Yeghern in the American University of Beirut in 1965, at the fiftieth-anniversary commemoration.

Most of us know that Raphael Lambkin, the Polish-American lawyer of Jewish descent, coined the word genocide, as a compound word. The legal definition of Genocide is found in the 1948 United Nations Convention on the Prevention of the Crime of Genocide. Article 2 of this convention defines genocide as “acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in parts, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group”. Genocide is one of intent and not of body count. The latter makes the intent the more obvious but does not by itself necessarily constitute genocide.

It was Shavarsh Missakian, the eminent editor of the famed Armenian daily “Haratch” in Paris, who first introduced the word genocide to the Armenian public in his editorial dated December 9, 1945. In a burst of rage, he concluded his short editorial saying: “Where were the lawmakers and the judges of today? Had they not discovered the word? Or was it that the bloodthirsty monster was too strong to lay a hand on? Our rage mounts tenfold particularly because the day’s victors were present then, where the crime was committed. They were there for full four years and ruled like landlords, much like they do nowadays in Germany. Then also hundreds were apprehended and 70 handpicked monsters were sent to Malta to be tried and punished commensurate to the crimes they perpetrated. Then? Has the world changed for the better from Istanbul and Malta to Nuremberg and Auschwitz? Let the hyenas of genocide be tried and punished mercilessly. But where did the first example of modern-day genocide take place?”

President George W. Bush used the term Medz Yeghern for the very first time. I was aghast to read in an Armenian newspaper an article in response to his use of the term, headlined along the line, “It was Genocide Mr. President, not Medz Yeghern”. I was aghast because we seemed to negate the very term the survivors of the genocide coined.

We lost a golden opportunity during the Obama’s administration. For the eight years, he was in office, he used the term Medz Yeghern. Instead of fighting tooth and nail his use of our very own term, we should have capitalized on his use of the term, in spite of what he had promised as a candidate. If Tsunami, Karaoke, Shoah, Hanukah, Kwanza have successfully made inroads in the English language lexicon, there is no reason we could not have introduced Medz Yeghern as another term to mean what it exactly meant to convey when the survivors of the genocide of the Armenians coined the term.

What happened to Armenians in 1915 cannot possibly be conveyed merely with the generic word genocide. Raffi K. Hovannisian, the American born and raised Armenia's first minister of foreign affairs, sums it best. I quote him: "Worse than genocide, as incredible as that sounds, is the premeditated deprivation of a people of its ancestral heartland.  And that's precisely what happened.  In what amounted to the Great Armenian Dispossession, a nation living for more than three millennia upon its historic patrimony-- at times amid its own sovereign Kingdoms and more frequently as a subject of occupying empires-- was in a matter of months brutally, literally, and completely eradicated from its land.  Unprecedented in human history, this expropriation of homes and lands, churches and monasteries, schools and colleges, libraries and hospitals, properties and infrastructures constitutes to this day a murder, not only of a people but also of a civilization, a culture, a time-earned way of life. This is where the debate about calling it genocide or not becomes absurd, trivial, and tertiary".

Indeed calling the Armenian existential experience merely with the generic word genocide is “absurd, trivial and tertiary”. It was more than that, much more, it was MEDZ YEGHERN.The survivors of that genocide knew better to simply adopt the Armenian word for genocide -tseghasbanoutiun.

Keurkune

Keurkune

Translated and abridged by Vahe H. Apelian, from Hagop Cholakian’s volume I of the 3 volumes sequel titled “Kessab”.

Keurkune is situated a little bit further from Chakaljuk, on a small flat hilltop. The village has a wide-open view of its surroundings. A portion of the mountain range that extends from Chakaljuk comes into view and thence the village of Ekiz Olough. In the nearer front of the village is the Keurkune’s gorge (khandag) that acts as a natural barrier to the village. From the east, Keukune overlooks the village of Douzaghaj and its surrounding flatlands. Ancient artifacts and metal coins have been found in and around the village indicating that the area was inhabited long time ago.

On the eastern side of the village rises the Kalajek Hill. Kalajek means a small castle. The hill can be easily ascended from its northern side. The southern side is insurmountable. Here, a long and a narrow cave is found that is known as Ounzen Magharan (the beast’s cave). On the hilltop remnants of stonewalls have been noticed, that may indeed have been the foundations of a small castle. There are no inscriptions and no carvings. They are ordinary stones. Metal coins have been found here, and old Armenian Cilician metal coins as well.

On the southeastern side of the village, Saint Stepanos chapel stood until the beginning of the last (19^th) century. The villagers bury their deaths around the ruins of the chapel. Mrs. Sirvart Apelian, nee Chelebian, tells that the father of his grandfather was the Chapel’s last priest’s, Father Stepanos', bosom friend and was his namesake. Father Stepanos is said to have asked his friend Stepan to have him buried in front of the Chapel’s door. Father Stepanos was regarded as a saintly man. However, the aged priest disappeared. The villagers looked for him in vain. The villagers claimed that his soul still inhabits where the chapel stood once, much like the Geghedseg Bagoug of Kaladouran.

 After the disappearance of Father Stepanos the chapel remained without a priest. It remained abandoned. However, the area retained its sanctity. The building collapsed but the alter remained until the end of last (19^th) century. To protect their flocks from infectious diseases the villagers used to herd their animals through the holy site. The first goat that stepped on the alter would be sacrificed to protect the rest of the herd from infection.

Around the chapel, there are some thorny oak trees. The villagers do not use their branches for fire. Cutting branches from them is considered sin. They believe that it would bring sickness and disasters and cause incurable diseases.  Next to chapel stands the tall and thorny oak tree whose trunk can barely be held by two people. Some of the stones of the altar remain embedded in the tree trunk and are still visible. In between the crevices pilgrims placed coins and under the tree, the villagers sacrificed roasters. The surrounding Turkmen and Alevis also believed in the sanctity of the remnants of the chapel. They used to refer to the village as Ziarat Keoy (the village of the saintly place). Around the chapel stands the village’s only cemetery. A little far from the Saint Stepanos chapel stand the flatlands known as Ouren Touroy. Ancient artifacts have also found here.

Without a doubt, Keurkune is one of the earliest inhabited villages of the area. That is the conclusion one draws speaking with the villagers, studying the possible evolution of the names of the places in the village, and of the remains of the Saint Stepanos chapel. Duke Renald of ancient Antioch lists the village of Corcona at its southern side. The name reads very close to the way natives pronounce Keurkune - kourkounoo. 

Lest We Forget: Mattheos Eblighatian (Մատթէոս Մ. Էպլիղաթեան)

Lest We Forget: Mattheos Eblighatian (Մատթէոս Մ. Էպլիղաթեան)

Translated by Vahe H. Apelian

Mattheos Eblighatian was the father of Melkon and Krikor who were community leaders and parliamentarians, the former in Lebanon and the latter in Syria. Melkon was a surgeon by profession and his brother Krikor an attorney. The brothers assembled their father’s memoirs in a book titling it “ A Life in the Life of My People” (Կեանք մը Ազգիս Կեանքին Մէջ). In the book, Mattheos Eblighatian summarizes his biography as follows.

“I am born in the city kirkagac (Գըրգաղան) in Izmir province, on October 21, 1881. In 1897 I graduated from Mesrobian School of Izmir. After graduating from the public gymnasium in the same city, in 1903 I was accepted to the Constantinople Law University and in 1908 I graduated with Doctor of Jurisprudence degree.

During the Ottoman Government’s constitutional period, I was appointed as a judge first in Yeberos Yania (Եպերոսի Եանիա) and then in Aleppo. In the summer of 1913, I was appointed as the general prosecutor in Van and after six months the president of that city’s Court of Justice.

In July 1914, I was appointed the translator for the Norwegian Major Hoff tasked with the reformation for the Armenians and was appointed in charge of the Armenian affairs.

On June 14, 1919, I was appointed as the executive director of the newly established National Refugee Settlement in Istanbul. While discharging my duties at that capacity, on July 3, 1920, by the order of the Armenian Republic’s Settlement and Reconstruction Ministry’s number 4839 official order, I was appointed as the Republic’s representative in Istanbul and on July 5, 1920 with the official order number 4863 I was appointed the director of Diaspora Affairs.  Since the National Assembly resolved that the Director of Diaspora Affairs would be appointed by the Ministry of Foreign Affair; the Republic’s Settlement and Reconstruction Ministry with their September 25, 1920, order number 6629 removed me from the office as their representative, but with the September 26, 1920, order number 5546 from the Republic’s Minister of Foreign Affair Hamo Ohanjanian, I was tasked as the temporary representative of Republic of Armenia in Istanbul and my salary and other details were conveyed to me by representative Tahtajian.

The Republic’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, with their Order number 5548, dated 28 September 1920 to F. Tahtajian, noted that Mattheos Eblighatian is considered as the Republic’s Ambassador and that the Ministry is awaiting his acceptance to send him the necessary official forms. During that period, it is known that the Turks and the Russians attacked our free and independent Republic. My ties with Yerevan were severed. I, on the other hand, tilted as the “Director of Diaspora Affairs”, and according to the provisions conveyed by Republic’s Government, I carried my duties as the Republic’s Ambassador until December 1922, when by the order of the British Government we were forced to shut down the Embassy.”

His sons, Melkon and Krikor, who as noted, assembled their father’s papers into the book noted that his brief biography reflected their father’s true nature for precision and detail for historical accuracy sake. They further noted “Mattheos Eblighatian’s autobiography ended by November 1922, while he passed away thirty-eight years later. Those were painful years as a refugee at which time he moved from one country to another five to six times.” Consequently, the brothers took upon themselves and presented the chronology of their father Mattheos Eblighatian’s life starting from his birth date. Their study of their father’s writings revealed the following chronology of their father’s life.

1881	Mattheos Eblighatian was born on October 21, in kirkagac (Գըրգաղաճ).
1897	Graduated from Mesrobian School in Izmir
1902	Graduated from secondary Turkish school of Izmir (gymnasium)
1903	He was a student of law in Istanbul
1908	On July 10, the Ottoman Constitution is proclaimed
1909	Mattheos Eblighatian received his Doctor of Jurisprudence degree.
1909	In March, M. Eblighatian was appointed as a judge in Yania.
1912	He was moved to the Aleppo with the same capacity.
1913	In March, he was appointed the General Prosecutor in the Van.
1913	In May, he embarked on his journey to Van following the route: Istanbul-Batumi-Tflisi-Yerevan-Izmir-Pergri.
1913	He reached Van on July 12.
1913	On December 15, he was appointed President of the Van’s Court of Justice.
1914	On July 10, he was appointed as the Armenian translator to the Norwegian Major and general examiner Hoff.
1914	On August 17, accompanying Hoff on his mission, he returned from Van to Istanbul via (Paghesh-Dikranagerd-Ourfa-Aleppo-Beirut and then by boat to Izmir and Istanbul).
1914	In October, Turkey took part in the First World War siding with Germany.
1916	From November to 1918, he carried his compulsory military service in the Ottoman Army.
1917	He was a major overseeing army provision in the Great Island of Marmara.
1917	On October 30, married Marinos (Marie) Chilingirian.
1918	On October 30, the Armistice of Mudros was signed.
1919	He was elected as a national representative in Istanbul
1919	He was appointed as the executive director of Refugee Settlement in Istanbul.
1920	On July 3, he was appointed as the Republic of Armenia’s Settlement and Reconstruction Ministry’s representative in Istanbul while carrying his tasks as the executive director of settlement until November 1, 1920.
1920	On September 28, he was appointed as the Republic of Armenia’s Director of Diaspora Affairs, but matter facedly, he acts as Republic’s Ambassador.
1922	In December, by the order of the British Government, he put an end to his role as the Republic’s Ambassador in Istanbul.
1923	He found refuge in Romania.
1924	He moved to Athens with his family.
1932	He moved to Aleppo, Syria and assumed the principalship of Haigazian Coed School.
1935	He moved to Antioch (Sanjak of Alexandretta) and engaged in the practice of law.
1938	In the beginning of the year he was appointed as a judge in Antioch until the 1939 annexation of the region into Turkey.
1940	On March 15, he was appointed as a member of the Court of Justice in the city of Lattakia, Syria and as an arbitrator in Kessab and Qastal Maaf.

1941	He was appointed as the sole Judge overseeing provisions in greater Lattakia and acted at that capacity until 1947 while retaining his other function.
1947	In November he retired from employment.
1960	He passed away on September 30, 1960.

“A Life in the Life of My People” (Կեանք մը Ազգիս Կեանքին Մէջ) makes for a fascinating reading and is primary historical source. The book awaits translation.