If you get me talking about Armenia, I won't stop. And if you try to tell me things about Armenia that aren't true, I'll tell you straight how it really is - that's what comes from living there for six months. Unless you've really been there, or even lived there, you really have no idea how much it can move you, how it can imbed itself in your heart, so deep that you can never remove it.
These days, living away from Armenia, I struggle to express my passion in writing. But, oh, when we lived there - I took a notebook everywhere because words would poor into my mind and out my pen a hundred miles an hour. And when I'd get back to my computer, my finger tips would hardly touch the keyboard as sentences seemed to put themselves together - as if Mother Armenia herself was writing through me.
A funny thing happened last night. We were at Carols at the kids school. I went to buy some things for the kids and spoke using as much Armenian as I know - the stall holders were baffled and couldn't quite believe their ears. I couldn't help but shrug and think - we're at an Armenian school function - where else are we going to speak Armenian at a function?!
If you want to feel truly Armenian, the only place on this Godly earth that you can is in Armenia, where you breath the air and gaze over the Great Mt Ararat as Armenians did 3000 years ago. You walk on the soil where Armenians fought, lived and died. Where you're amoungst Bibilical history that rivals Jerusalem (the Garden of Eden and Noah's Ark are both said to be in Armenia).
