Javakhk continues to shape my life — the impact that lasts

This past summer, I had the honor of returning to Camp Javakhk, and I can say without hesitation that it was yet again the most rewarding and meaningful experience of my life. For two weeks, I lived in the Armenian villages of Akhalkalak and Dzalka in Javakhk, Georgia — a land rich in history, beauty and resilience. 

The scenery was breathtaking: rolling green hills, stone-built villages and a sense of untouched purity surrounded us. But what struck me even more than the natural beauty were the people, especially our youth. Their smiles, laughter and endless energy reminded me of what true joy looks like. Despite having so little in material possessions, they radiated a happiness that felt larger than life. 

What humbled me most was the way the kids treated us. To them, we were celebrities. They followed us everywhere, held our hands, asked for our attention and cried when we left. Yet in truth, it was we who looked up to them. Their resilience, generosity and gratitude taught me more about life than I could ever teach them. We came to help them — but they ended up helping us.

During camp, we sang Armenian songs, taught traditional dances, played sports, created arts and crafts and shared countless laughs. In those moments, I felt the true meaning of community and culture. We weren’t just teaching songs or games; we were passing down identity, keeping our spirit alive and strengthening the bond between Diaspora Armenians and our brothers and sisters in Javakhk. 

This summer was particularly special because it marked my second time participating in Camp Javakhk. My first was in 2019, and I am endlessly grateful that I decided to return. This year, I even had the chance to celebrate my birthday in Akhalkalak, surrounded by friends who quickly became family. For someone who never truly enjoyed birthdays, this one will forever remain in my heart as the best I’ve ever had. 

Living in the villages of Javakhk was also eye-opening — a powerful reminder of how different life is from what we often take for granted in the U.S. And yet, despite the challenges, the people of Javakhk are filled with hope, pride and love. They gave us gifts, helped us even when they had little themselves, and reminded us of what it means to live with generosity of spirit.

As Armenians in the Diaspora, we often talk about our connection to our homeland, but nothing compares to experiencing it firsthand. Javakhk is not just a place on the map; it is a part of our identity, our history and our future.

I want to encourage every Armenian youth reading this: apply to Camp Javakhk. Go live in the villages, teach our songs, dance with the kids and let yourself be changed by the people of Javakhk. You will come back with memories that last a lifetime and friendships that feel like family. 

For me, Javakhk is no longer just a name or a distant land; it is home. And the children of Javakhk are no longer just campers; they are my little brothers and sisters. They are the reason we must keep going back, keep supporting and never forget that our story as Armenians extends far beyond borders. 

Camp Javakhk reminded me of something profound: true happiness is not found in material wealth, but in love, community and service. For that lesson, and for every smile and memory, I will forever be grateful. 

Javakhk is eternal. And so is our duty to it.