Yerevan, first visit

Vaհe H Apelian

 

I visited Armenia for the first time during 1969/1970-time frame. I was a student at the American University of Beirut (AUB). The Embassy of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) had organized for the students of AUB a tour that took us to Yerevan, where we stayed for a week or a bit less. From Yerevan we flew to Leningrad, the present-day Saint Petersburg, and from there we went to Moscow by train. Internet tell me that “The train ride between St. Petersburg and Moscow is generally considered unremarkable rather than scenic, featuring typical Russian landscapes of forests, fields, and small villages.” However, that is not the impression I am left with. It remains for me a memorable train ride.  

The tour took place during the University’s Easter break and lasted anywhere between 10 to 12 days. I have retained to this day fond memories of my visit and meeting our relatives who hosted me royally. Having a guest from adrasahman – overseas - was a rarity during those days. Almost all the neighbors of our relatives, dropped by and welcomed me. 

I have memorialized an incident during that visit. It is about a young girl I met in a kolkhoz, a farming commune on our way visiting Lake Sevan. Those interested to hear about her and my brief encounter with her, may read the attached link titled “what happened to her?”

 I was reminded recently of another memorable encounter I had in Yerevan with a lady. I had long contemplated memorializing it too. Strange as it may sound, the recent news about the National Assembly giving its final approval to ban the sale and commercial use of plastic bags and certain single use plastic products by 2027, became the trigger to write this blog post, because the memorable encounter I alluded to, is about  ordinary plastic shopping bag. I had long thought of memorializing the encounter. 

 On one of those days in Yerevan, I went to a market with a few others from the group. I do not remember what was it that I purchased. The seller, instead of putting the purchase in a bag, had it wrapped in a paper, making it very difficult, almost impossible for me to keep it wrapped to carry with me. I asked the seller if he had a bag. He did not have. At that moment a lady, who happened to be standing next to me, opened her purse and removed a neatly folded plastic bag and offered it to me. It was obvious that she kept that plastic bag with care, having it neatly folded and placed  it in her purse. I thanked her but I refused to accept her offer. She insisted that I take it. She was so adamant about it that I gave in and thanked her and took plastic bag.

I remember to this day unwrapping it. The crease lines of the folds of the plastic bag were very visible and firm. It was not an unused plastic bag. It was apparent that she had neatly folded the plastic bag, as she had done many times before, and had carried it with her for her day’s shopping. After that casual encounter we departed ways. 

After I wrote the preceding paragraph, I asked all-knowing AI if plastic bags were rare in the Soviet Union in 1960’s. This is what the all-knowing AI said, “Yes, plastic bags were exceptionally rare in the Soviet Union during the 1960s, often acting as luxury items or status symbols rather than functional daily items. They only began to appear more frequently in the 1970s and 1980s, typically imported from the West or sourced through black market.” 

Visiting Armenia during those years was a privilege offered to a few. Much like the neighbors of our relatives, who dropped by and welcomed me, asking me if there was anything that they could do to make my visit comfortable and enjoyable; this lady too, went out of her way to make sure that I am not inconvenienced in any way. 

 My most recent visit to Armenia, which also included visiting Artsakh, was a decade ago, in 2015. Much had changed. Nature had taken its course. Many of our relatives had passed away. Some had left Armenia or their children had left Armenia. Those who had remained were younger than I when I visited the families in 1969/70. Grown up, they too, like their parents, welcomed me and hosted me royally, reminiscing of the times when I had visited them fifty plus a few years ago.

 

Link: “what happened to her?” - https://vhapelian.blogspot.com/2023/05/what-happened-to-her.html