Ch 41, Day 19: The Yazidi Village

 20.6
kms, Sept 23, 2021

The
Traveler happens to be doing a bit of reading on the Yazidi culture,
a people that he know nothing about until a few years ago, when he
heard about them being brutally massacred and enslaved by the
barbaric ISIS invaders in Syria and Kurdish Iraq. He was both
fascinated and appalled—fascinated at how a faith that is neither
Islamic nor Christian has managed to survive in this part of the
world... and appalled at the repeated massacres and persecutions they
have gone through.

The
Yazidis seem to be a throwback to another era. An era when many
religions existed side by side throughout North Africa, the Middle
East and Europe. Then the two empire faiths: Christianity and Islam
, swept through, exterminating almost all other religions along the
way. Only a handful have survived, the Yazidis being one of them.

The
Traveler learns that, Armenian is not entirely monocultural. There is
a very small percent of non-Armenians who live here and are
protected. One of them is the Yazidi culture. In fact, there are a
couple of predominantly Yazidi villages right in this valley.

The
Traveler immediately knows that he needs to go a visit one of them.
And it turns out, he just passed one. So today, he's going to loop
back to visit the Yazidi town of Verin Artashat.

He
starts out on the highway town of Dimitrov, then up a quiet
back road to the village of Kanachut. He sees, once again,
that it seems to be mostly older women doing the hard work in the
fields. It does bring back a troubling deja vu of the Dades
region in Morocco, where women do pretty much all the heavy work. He
does ask a couple of Armenians about this, and no one can give a
clear answer as to why it's mostly women doing the heavy work. They
do insist that, no, it's not because men don't like to work. They
probably are working elsewhere.

It's
a short walk from farm village to farm village. In Aygestan, the
Traveler finds a bakery where he can enjoy a fresh baked Armenian
pizza, which is a pleasant surprise. Usually it's hard to find any
sort of eatery in the off the beaten track villages. Then it's off
on a dirt back road to the village of Berdik, and finally
Verin Artashat.

The
Traveler looks around for clues as to what might make this
predominantly Yazidi town different. He does see a large number of
businesses—particularly hardware stores and farm related
businesses. It makes him wonder if Yazidis, like Jews, tend to be
business people, trying to work their way up the ladder as a
minority. He does read later that most of them are farmers and
shepherds.

Then
he sees it... his first clue... a large, nice house with the image of
a peacock engraved on the wall. The peacock is an important symbol
Yazidi culture, so this is most likely a Yazidi home. But other than
this, there are few signs suggesting that people here are any
different. The town does have a bit more middle class feel than other
towns the Traveler has passed through.

This
makes the Traveler wonder... do Yazidis try to not make it obvious
that they are different? He learns that, while they are not
persecuted in Armenia, they are looked down on, and calling someone a
“Yazdi” can be a pejorative.

This
gets him thinking in another direction. So, let's say Yazidis are
not persecuted here... but over the generations, as the youth mingle
with Armenians find themselves attracted to non-Yazidis of the
opposite sex... and the gradually start losing interest in their
ancestral faith, to the point that it just fades away and
disappears...

Would
that be a great tragedy? Or is that just normal social evolution?

He
remembers hearing of “honor killings”, when Yazidis might kill
their own daughter for falling in love with someone outside the
faith. Normally, if anyone marries outside the faith, they will be
forever rejected.

If
I were a Yazidi youth... how would I feel about this? Would I be
tempted to just want to just rebel and walk away from it all?

Having
broken away from his own upbringing, the Traveler tends to empathize
more with the “rebels” who want to live life their own way. But
he can also sympathize with folk desperately trying to preserve their
own culture, even if it means sacrificing individual liberties.

In
the center of town is a circular park/plaza with a war memorial
inside. A couple of boys come to listen as the Traveler dedicates a
concert to this significant place. He is tempted to ask them if they
are Yazidi, but decides against it.

As
he sings, he comes to his conclusion: If the Yazidi faith were to
naturally fade away because people decide to move on to something
else, there's nothing wrong or tragic about that. There are always
cultures that are fading... and new cultures being born.

But,
as long as Yazidis collectively decide that their culture is worth
preserving, it is a wonderful thing that, at least here in Armenia,
they have a safe place to be.

Thank
you Armenia, for providing this place...

The
Ancient City of Dvin

Turns
out, there are more important discoveries in these seemingly boring
little farm towns. Not far away, there is supposed to be the ruins
of the ancient city of Dvin, so the Traveler goes to try to find it.

Down
a winding back road, he sees a sign pointing towards, “Dvin
Ruins”... but all he see is a fence, a closed gate, and a couple of
men working on a construction site. No sign that this is an
important historical site or tourist attraction.

One
of the construction workers notices the Traveler peering through, and
gestures for him to come inside. The Traveler is confused, until the
man comes and shows him that the gate is not actually locked. So he
comes in and wanders around a bit.

There
is little to show for a city, he later learns, was home to 100,000
people and was the seat of power of one of the greatest empires of
this part of the world. Now, just a few scattered pillars, and the
foundations of a couple homes and religious buildings.

And
the construction? Well, it looks like there's a attempt to sort of
“rebuild” a temple or something. But it doesn't look like much
effort it being made to use original materials or even make it look
authentic. Just concrete pillars, which quite frankly, the Traveler
feels, is worse than not doing anything at all.

He
continues on his way. He does wonder who more importance is not
given to this site—especially considering the great role it had in
Armenian history. It was between the year 335 to 428 AD that Armenia
experienced a true “Golden Age. It's power and influence spread
from the Caspian Sea all the way to the Mediterranean. It was during
that time that this city flourished.
After that, one wave of
invaders after another swept through here and this city was looted
and damaged many times. Unlike places like Tatev, this isn't a very
defensible place to build a city, and finally the city was destroyed
to never be rebuilt.

But
the Traveler's impression is that, that “Golden Age” is what is
locked in people's minds—and the Armenian history books, as being
the central narrative of their identity. We are a powerful, proud
people. Yeah, we've had a “rough patch” for the last 1,600
years... but we'll get through it and go back to being great again.

But...
just a Dvin can never really be restored to what it once was... there
are certain eras in history that you can't really go back to and
relive again. And, the Traveler feels, while being locked into a
glorious past can help boost morale and strengthen that sense of
identity, it can also push people to be more aggressive and less
willing to compromise with their neighbors and historical rivals.
And he get's the feeling that that has been, and still is a real
problem for this country moving forward.

He
continues on to the modern town of Hnaberd. Here he finds
himself in good company, with some locals coming to listen to his
concert in the little part. Though it turns out, some of them are
not locals, but refugees from Artsakh. It looks like they are living
in former government buildings. The Traveler tries to express his
sympathy for them, when he hears where they are from, but doesn't
feel he should prod them for details. He the continues on west, to
Verdashen, where in a field overgrown with weeds, is a statue
of a Soviet soldier in a dramatic pose falling to the ground...

And
so, another day in the Ararat Valley comes to an end.