Connection to our motherland

View of Ararat and Yerevan from the Zeitlian family friend’s balcony

It was August 27, 2013. I was five years old, and my older sister Sarine was nine. I looked around at the faces of my family members who came to say goodbye to us at Zvartnots airport in Armenia. It was the strangest thing for me. 

Fast-forward 11 years, at the start of the summer, in that same airport, there I was with bright red cheeks and a smile on my face, knowing that there would be eight aunts and uncles, 14 cousins and grandparents waiting to greet us as soon as we passed baggage claim. Just as when I was a child, the feeling had not changed! I was looking at those same faces, in that same airport and with those same emotions. The tears of joy poured and overwhelmed me. As a child, I had turned to Sarine to find comfort, and she said to me, “Maral, it will always be the easiest hellos and the most difficult goodbyes.” 

She was right! I have arrived and departed from Zvartnots airport many times since then. I’ve seen Armenia, my second home, in many different seasons and colors, but the feeling has never changed. 

Maral Zeitlian (right), her sister Sarine and her father in Tatev, summer of 2009

Growing up, I spent my summers in Tatev, living the village life for three months, eating dirt with the chickens in the yard and filling empty bottles with water to bring to the house, back when there was no running water. It was my happy place, my comfort zone outside of my traditional comfort. 

It’s now 2024 — the water infrastructure is up and running and there are no chickens in my grandparents’ yard, but every time I’m in Armenia I still feel like that little girl. Although I’m 16, I’m still the youngest of all my cousins. I hold a special place in our little but big family, and 

I will always be treated like the child I was then. I’ve learned to accept it. I know it breaks their hearts to watch me leave, because they know it will be a long time before they see me again. They don’t get to watch Sarine and I grow up, but I know this only makes it more special whenever we do get to enjoy each other’s presence. My family is my favorite connection to Armenia. It is what makes me feel the most at home.

I am convinced that every person who goes to Armenia creates their own bond with their homeland, may it be positive or negative, a special connection for each Armenian. Nonetheless, it is heartbreaking that our homeland continues to live through persecutions and a constant threat of being annihilated by the enemy, stripped of our ancestral lands and our villages leveled. Yet, they will never be able to take away our identity and our deep bond with our motherland. That connection is inexplicable and undeniable. 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Being Armenian is not just an ethnicity; it’s an integral part of my identity. Each time I attend AYF camps and seminars, I am reminded of this connection, as I embrace our vibrant lifestyle among people who share my passion for our rich culture, history and customs. In these settings, I find myself deeply engaged during lectures and workshops, especially when discussing the vital importance of preserving our homeland. I get very involved in lectures and workshops, because conserving our land is of utmost importance to me. Often, a familiar question arises: “How many of you have been to Armenia?” I glance around, and only less than half of the hands are raised. Then they ask, “How many of you want to go to Armenia?” My heart skips a beat as every hand quickly rises. This moment represents the importance of resisting assimilation and staying true to our roots — it is essential for our survival. I have often heard the adults in our community emphasize that, regardless of where life takes us, we must always find a way to connect to Armenia and consider how we can contribute towards its betterment. 

I worry when people stop caring, especially at my age, knowing that the future of our existence is in our hands. I used to think it was because they would rather focus on the social pillar, which is one of my favorite pillars of the AYF. However, this year, when I came home, my Armenia was perceived in a new light.

When I’m in Armenia, I am delighted to observe the vibrant life of the citizens: the melodies of a piano drifting from open windows, elderly men selling candles in front of monasteries, restaurants buzzing late into the night, children running through the illuminated fountains, mothers wiping ice cream from their babies’ mouths and much more. Every breath, every blink, every person is in high spirits! Every movement and form of life in Armenia assures me that our country is not just a far away land we all call “homeland.” It is so much more. Being in Armenia and observing the locals’ lives, while knowing what they have endured and still rise above, is priceless. It’s the full meaning of resilience.  

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The reason our diasporan youth have difficulty relating to the Armenian cause is that many of them have never been able to make that connection with our nation. When they get the opportunity to speak about their trips to Armenia, their faces light up and the memories appear in their eyes, knowing they have found their reason to fight for it. These unique experiences, including the AYF Internship, Birthright Armenia, Tumo, AGBU programs, Camp Nayiri and many others, encourage young adults and youth to make a connection with Armenia and tie-in their life goals back to our homeland. 

I have discovered just how strong my desire is to study in Armenia after I graduate from high school. I am eager to work and live there, dedicating my efforts and strengths to contribute to the development of our homeland. I believe that the first priority in rebuilding relies on resettling in our ancestral lands and establishing flourishing businesses in the villages and cities. The ultimate goal of the Armenian cause is not only to achieve a free, united and independent Armenia, but to achieve one we would all repatriate to. I don’t cry at the airport anymore, knowing that one day, I’ll get to leave it without having to say goodbye.

Maral Zeitlian

Maral Zeitlian

Maral Zeitlian is a student at Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School in New York City. She is a member of the AYF Manhattan Moush Junior Chapter.
Maral Zeitlian

Latest posts by Maral Zeitlian (see all)

5 Comments

  1. Thank you, Maral. Sharing your thoughts and emotions will encourage others to discover theirs. Please keep writing.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.