Hello, Armenia!

I sit in a small room beneath a Soviet era apartment building. Its basement slightly modified yet holding its cold, and very much prior background. A dance course takes place a few metres away. Armenia is a place I have instantly fallen in love with. Russian characters are seen at fuel stations, by the side of odd machinery I can't quite comprehend the use of, and is found rolling off the tongues of citizens around. Armenian is still very much a priority. Particularly these days given the recent conflict and high tension that sits with Russia and Europe Armenia unforgiving for the past as the USSR collapsed, and refuses to get too close to put its hand near an animal that may very well bite at any moment.

The atmosphere here is relaxed. It's a place of intense peace. Life unfolds as if the USSR had not collapsed. Signs of its past are littered around the streets. Time paused when the USSR collapsed and Armenia suffered. And since then, Armenia has almost continued on without changing much. In a way, I appreciate it for this. It hasn't drastically distanced itself from its past like others in the former republics. It hasn't fully rejected the signs of communism that once reigned upon the nation. It doesn't fully reject the idea of communism either, it appears. This makes Armenia a very unique country. One that desperately tries to be friends with all that surround it, knowing very well that it stands a very weak nation capable of manipulation. More noted in recent days as Armenia struggles with Azerbaijan. The political climate around that an interesting idea; Europe supports Armenia, Russia claims to but doesn't offer any actual support.

What does one do with a nation like Armenia? Sandwiched between multiple powerful nations that most certainly have their own agendas. Yet the people live on. I sat and discussed certain themes with two witnesses of the Soviet era of Armenia. I watched as an elderly woman looked out of the window of a 14th floor of her apartment, the pain and love for Armenia visible in her gentle eyes. I stood by her, us both drinking Armenian coffee. A language barrier between us. Her knowing no English, me knowing no Armenian. The two of us knowing snippets of Russian. This atmosphere gave me peace, yet I felt that emotion of a life of struggles. My heart felt crushed as I looked out of that window, across an Armenia of Soviet era apartments in Yerevan, towards the dry mountains in the horizon. For some reason, Armenia felt like a home I had always wanted.

This is my first day here. I flew in at 3AM with one pair of cargo pants and two shirts. Ditching some of what I had back in Istanbul as my backpack grew heavy and too dense. I feared a rejection of my backpack on the flight here. It's odd. I left Istanbul only hearing bad things about Armenians from Turks. Yet I happily left Istanbul feeling nothing but a chaotic feeling of despair. Especially from its own population. My lungs feel clearer, less full of chemicals and no longer pained from tobacco. The fresh air here something I had almost forgotten. That coldness in the evening that resembled life back in England. I spent almost a month in Turkey, yet I never felt like I had left my home nation beyond the pollution. Instantly, Armenia felt unique. And I'm so excited to be here, to talk with those who call this home. To hear what they have to say. And to capture this beautiful land with my cameras.

Hello, Armenia!