The Dreaded Departure: Lalai Goes Home
September 5th was the dreaded date...of the dreaded departure. I attached myself to Lalai's hip for her last 48 hours in Hayastan. The first hour I went to her workplace, where she was tying up loose ends and saying goodbye to her colleagues. Lalai volunteered at Bars Media, an independent documentary film studio. She developed the marketing plan for her boss' upcoming film, "War and Peace." It will be a must see for anyone interested in Armenia, and particularly the Karabagh war. Bars Media describes the project: "Front line journalist and former prisoner of war, Vardan Hovhannisyan, lived alongside soldiers, doctors, nurses, villagers, and children caught in the conflict, capturing their immediate thoughts, impressions and last words to their families. A decade later, Vardan returns to Karabagh, in an attempt to grasp the aftermath of a devastating war and to draw lessons of peace from the survivors." For more information, see http://www.barsmedia.am/main.php?mid=1&pid=7&t=1.
The next evening we had a big "goodbye" bash at one of our favorite restaurants: The Club. Chant, another Montrealian, was also leaving, so we made many toasts to both of them.
While in Armenia, Lalai met her cousin Hosvep for the first time. As you can see, he towers over his Manjikian cousin. In his early twenties, he's an impressive guy, and well on his way to being a great doctor.
Sylvie was also sorry to see Lalai go. I think her gesture means "come back soon, we're waiting," in Armenian sign language. :-) No, actually she was hypnotizing Lalai to come back in April.
And successfully. Lalai fell into a deep trance in the middle of dinner as I watched Sylvie at work, in amazement.
An hour later Lalai whispered in my ear that something had come over her and she felt extremely compelled to come back to Armenia in April with her parents. It worked!
The next day was all about packing. I scored some leftovers. Granola bars, power bars, peanut butter, canned tuna, crackers & cheese, havla, etc. and even undistributed gifts, which I'll take to the village to give away.
We broke for coffee, and I watched Lalai as she wrote down in her "little book of everything"...
the top ten most unacceptable things for women to do in Armenia. We collected them from our own experiences and observations.
Back to packing. I was impressed with her progress!
We had enough time to stroll around the nearby area one last time. Mother Armenia stands tall in the background, as Lalai braved the middle of Mashtots Street.
Finally, we managed to sleep a few hours before departing for the airport at 2:30 a.m. True to Armenian custom, Lalai's cousin Hovsep showed up at her door in the middle of the night to take her to the airport, even though she had told him she'd arranged for a cab. What a sweetie.
Hovsep was a big help when the ticket agent informed Lalai that her suitcase was overweight and she'd have to pay. He pulled his charm, with no illegal transactions whatsoever, and away she went, free of charge.
Lalai and Chant (in white shirt) were the stars this night. Birthright Armenia sent a professional photographer out for a photo-shoot. See Lalai and Chant's cousin-- aren't they great actors?! We are waiting to see them in the next Birthright Armenia brochure.
Actually none of us really had to act. I'm sure at certain points Mr. Photographer captured the genuine sadness in our eyes.
Finally, at 5:40am it was time for her to depart. I walked with her to the platform, where she then entered the ship pictured below. They raised her to the top via elevator. And I heard her say it. "Beam me up Scottie!" Off she went.
The space ship then took off into the stars...
...and that was the last we saw of her. But we are eagerly awaiting her return in April!
The next evening we had a big "goodbye" bash at one of our favorite restaurants: The Club. Chant, another Montrealian, was also leaving, so we made many toasts to both of them.
While in Armenia, Lalai met her cousin Hosvep for the first time. As you can see, he towers over his Manjikian cousin. In his early twenties, he's an impressive guy, and well on his way to being a great doctor.
Sylvie was also sorry to see Lalai go. I think her gesture means "come back soon, we're waiting," in Armenian sign language. :-) No, actually she was hypnotizing Lalai to come back in April.
And successfully. Lalai fell into a deep trance in the middle of dinner as I watched Sylvie at work, in amazement.
An hour later Lalai whispered in my ear that something had come over her and she felt extremely compelled to come back to Armenia in April with her parents. It worked!
The next day was all about packing. I scored some leftovers. Granola bars, power bars, peanut butter, canned tuna, crackers & cheese, havla, etc. and even undistributed gifts, which I'll take to the village to give away.
We broke for coffee, and I watched Lalai as she wrote down in her "little book of everything"...
the top ten most unacceptable things for women to do in Armenia. We collected them from our own experiences and observations.
Back to packing. I was impressed with her progress!
We had enough time to stroll around the nearby area one last time. Mother Armenia stands tall in the background, as Lalai braved the middle of Mashtots Street.
Finally, we managed to sleep a few hours before departing for the airport at 2:30 a.m. True to Armenian custom, Lalai's cousin Hovsep showed up at her door in the middle of the night to take her to the airport, even though she had told him she'd arranged for a cab. What a sweetie.
Hovsep was a big help when the ticket agent informed Lalai that her suitcase was overweight and she'd have to pay. He pulled his charm, with no illegal transactions whatsoever, and away she went, free of charge.
Lalai and Chant (in white shirt) were the stars this night. Birthright Armenia sent a professional photographer out for a photo-shoot. See Lalai and Chant's cousin-- aren't they great actors?! We are waiting to see them in the next Birthright Armenia brochure.
Actually none of us really had to act. I'm sure at certain points Mr. Photographer captured the genuine sadness in our eyes.
Finally, at 5:40am it was time for her to depart. I walked with her to the platform, where she then entered the ship pictured below. They raised her to the top via elevator. And I heard her say it. "Beam me up Scottie!" Off she went.
The space ship then took off into the stars...
...and that was the last we saw of her. But we are eagerly awaiting her return in April!
posted by Sophia Malkasian at 4:43 AM
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