As I step outside, a bright, nearly full moon greets me, lighting up a deep blue sky studded with what appears to be every star known to mankind. I recognize only the Little Dipper but I now understand why constellations are so valued around the world. Perched high in the mountains in Dashdoon village, near the town Meghri in southern Armenia, it feels as if the world has momentarily paused its geopolitical chaos. It’s just enough time to enjoy a magical evening with people who feel like lifelong friends, even though I’ve known them only a few years.
I take a deep breath of the clean, crisp winter mountain air. My head clears from the thumping of the band playing inside, and I relax for a moment, watching each breath dissipate into the wind. It has been an evening of singing, dancing and dining with friends and family. For the fourth consecutive year, I am hosting a Thanksgiving dinner for an entire village in Syunik. Each has been more successful than the previous one, as I have learned the local customs and culture while fusing them with my own.
When I started this Thanksgiving initiative, my goal was to recreate how I imagined villages used to celebrate Christian feasts in the Yergir, the old country. I was inspired by Racine’s Madagh and Chicago’s Blessing of the Grapes festival, where Armenian community members come together for a potluck feast with music and dancing.
I was once told a story about a group of fedayees who, in 1915, stumbled upon a bonfire deep in the forest. At first, they thought that it belonged to Kurds, but they soon discovered that it was an Armenian village in hiding, forced to flee during the Genocide. With nothing but the clothes on their backs, the villagers celebrated the marriage of a young couple. Even in the face of unimaginable hardship, life had to go on.
And today, it still must.
One of my criteria for the dinner is that villagers participate as much as possible without being overburdened with the costs. This year, they came through more than ever, bringing toorshi (pickles), baneer (cheese), madzoon (yogurt), oghi (vodka), kini (wine), lobi (beans), various juices from local fruits and a variety of ingredients — all local, organic and homemade — to help put together a robust and beautiful table for us all to share.
We spent two days preparing the meal. Women gathered to make salads, sides and a wonderfully spiced pilaf dish, while the men butchered a pig and prepared the khozi khorovadz (pork barbeque), our main dish for the evening and a local favorite. There isn’t much interest (yet) in a turkey dinner, and I already had my share, having gathered with my fellow diasporan friends in November for an American deep-fried turkey.
Last year, after the exodus from Artsakh, I did not want to make the evening too celebratory, out of respect for our 30 new Artsakhtsi residents — all of whom are still here, living rent-free in houses that we renovated. I was mistaken, though, as it was the Artsakhtsis who had requested music last year. So, this year, a band from the state capital, Kapan, will bring the evening to life.
The sad reality is that in many of Armenia’s remote villages, there are few, if any, barahanteses (dinner dances) or community celebrations. It makes one appreciate the competing AYF and ACYOA November dances in Detroit and the many events in the diaspora that fill our calendars and our hearts with Armenian spirit. This was the second year we hosted Thanksgiving in Dashdoon and the first time I didn’t hear residents tell me that they hadn’t seen each other in years.
This event is made possible by my generous friends and family, who pitch in to help fund the dinner each year. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I am truly thankful for their continued support as I work to build a life here in the southernmost part of Haiastan. Over the years, many of my friends and family have visited me in the Meghri region. I extend an open invitation to all readers of the Weekly to join us for Thanksgiving or any other time of the year. When you arrive, just ask for the Amerigatsi — we don’t rely on addresses or GPS.
thank you U Garin.
great job.
Ապրես Կարին վարձկդ կատար❤
What a great piece with beautiful descriptions. I felt I was there! Thank you, Garin, and Abris.
Վարձքդ կատար, Կարին:
Thank you Garin. The Racine community still holds the annual Madagh every year the last Sunday in June. It has been going on for 87 years. We try to keep the tradition from our ancestors.