Hummus and brownies, books and bikes

One year less 21 days. That’s how long it’s been since I moved back to Toronto. Things are the same, but different. (What returning “expat/repat” hasn’t said these words?) I know I’m not alone, but most days it doesn’t feel like that. All my friends here are people who’ve lived in Toronto, who’ve never lived anywhere else (or who moved here when they were young and haven’t left since). People who’ve built their lives in Toronto — Toronto defines them. It no longer defines me. And more and more, I feel the need to connect with those who split their time between countries, people who’ve lived abroad. People who’ve experienced/experience this dissonance, incongruence, discord… (My vocabulary of such words has noticeably expanded.)

A World of Pride or More Like Hüzün?

These days what I’m feeling isn’t pride, but sadness. Or perhaps it is melancholy. WorldPride was celebrated in Toronto this year, but I’m not there. I’m in Yerevan where the word “pride” doesn’t have the same meaning. No gay pride parade and not even a march — nothing that is even close to resembling what was happening in Toronto last week and what happened in Istanbul on Sunday.

 

The Second Time Around

Living in Armenia the second time around is different. You are no longer bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You see beneath the surface. And you don't always like what you see…

We (us second-time-arounders) are congratulated for returning. I mean, we had our chance. We left Armenia, and though we always said we'd return, probably no one really believed us. But we did return. And those who stayed, those who remain here thanked us (though they don't need to, really). We feel like heros. But I find that problematic. You don't get a medal for living in Armenia (living anywhere, for that matter). So why do people feel the need to make us feel like we deserve a medal? If anyone deserves a medal, it's you. You who stayed. You who stayed and fought and continue to put yourself on the line every day (I'm talking about the human rights defenders, the activists). I took the easy way out. I left (yes, it was for a good cause, and yes, now I'm back) and yes, though I did what I could from afar, you have to admit, it's easier from a distance, from behind a computer screen, than on the ground, In Real Life. Trust me, I know. 

Dispelling the Myth that Everything is Organic in Armenia

A friend recently shared on Facebook a blog post by another friend of mine, which elicited several comments on the myth that everything is "naturally organic" in Armenia. Though I knew about the use of pesticides, there's a lot that I didn't know, and so I asked the person who left the most detailed comments, Ursula Kazarian (who happens to be the president and founder of the Armenian Environmental Network), if I could publish her comments on my blog. She agreed, so here it is. Kind of like a guest post :)

Welcome to Armenia

It’s Christmas Eve in Armenia, but I’m not really feeling the holiday spirit. For one thing, all the fanfare of New Year’s Eve (especially here where Dec. 25th is not celebrated) has died down, the alcohol’s effect has worn off, and we’re confronted with the reality of having spent half of this month’s pay cheque on holiday preparations and coming to terms with how we’re going to make the other half last for the remaining 25 days of this month. For another thing, I just read my friend Artur Papyan’s latest blog post. He paints a bleak picture of the year to come (which also reminded me of Yerevan Press Club President Boris Navasardian’s similarly depressing outlook on the state of Armenian media, censorship and a return to a disempowering Soviet past, but that’s a different story). But, Artur jan, please don’t feel bad because the good thing about reading your post was that it gave me the impetus I needed to write this blog post, which I’ve been meaning to write for the past few days.

#Commit2Equality for LGBT Armenians

There hasn't been a week that's gone by that I haven't thought about this blog and more specifically, that I haven't felt guilty about not updating it (... in 4 months!). It is still a very near and dear project of mine and one I'm not willing to let go of yet... that being said, I cannot guarantee that I'll update it regularly, though I will sure as hell try. So bear with me, and check in every once in a while...

Here is a poster of a campaign by Equality California that a few of us helped translate into Armenian. By all no means was it easy trying to find a word or expression in Armenian for "coming out" — the best suggestion and the one we finally went with was «տեսանելի լինել հանրության մեջ», which roughly (and literally) translates to "being visible in public" (which is as good as it's gonna get at the moment).

We Are All Georgian LGBT Rights Activists

Violence erupted in the Georgian capital, Tbilisi, today as thousands of counter protestors attacked a peaceful demonstration organized by gay rights activists to mark the International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia (IDAHO). Protestors apparently threw stones and injured not only the activists, but also police officers. I've seen photos of several vehicles with their windows smashed and videos of protestors attacking the minibus in which gay rights activists sought refuge and with which they were escorted away from the scene by law enforcement authorities. Horrific. And disgraceful.

Civil Society and NGOs in Armenia

Is the existence of non-governmental organizations (NGOs) equivalent to civil society? That is, the more NGOs you have, the more civil society you have. What does civil society mean, anyway? Before I moved to Armenia, I have to be honest, I hadn’t really come across the term. Having spent several years working in the non-profit (or not-for-profit) sector in Canada, I moved to the other side of the ocean only to realize that (a) “non-profit” is more often replaced with the term “non-governmental” and (b) the non-governmental sector and civil society are used almost interchangeably. But are they one and the same?

Protesting Same-Sex Marriage and Adoption: What’s the Real Reason?

A BBC article titled “Mass Paris rally against gay marriage in France” I read this morning has really got my knickers in a knot (excuse the expression).

Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that the issues of same-sex marriage and adoption by same-sex couples has once again riled the masses to the point that they feel the need to take to the streets and protest.

As I wrote the sentence above, I remembered the crowd that gathered to protest the Diversity March held in Yerevan in May 2012. And though those in Armenia protesting diversity (they thought it was a Pride Parade, but still) is not the same as those in France protesting same-sex marriage or adoption rights, there is an underlying thread — it’s called homophobia.

In all honesty…

I have been contemplating ideas for the title of this blog post for a few days now with contenders such as “Family Portrait” (because I recently visited my family and there’s always so much to say and process after a trip back home) and “Mirrors” (because I noticed how many mirrors there are in homes and apartments in Toronto and I wanted to compare this with the mirrors in apartments I’ve stayed in Brussels which are always fewer and always placed just slightly too high — Belgians aren’t known for being tall, are they? Anyway, the topic of mirrors seemed to lend itself nicely to making inferences about where I am and comparing places and experiences and… well, you get the picture).

Watching Parada and Not in Armenia

I have mixed emotions over the fact that I was able to watch the "controversial" film Parada tonight — a film screening that, unfortunately, did not take place in Yerevan. The film was screened as part of a festival for European audiences, and I was lucky enough to be at the right place at the right time. 

The mixed feelings are not about the film itself. I thought it was a great film — an amazing film — that more than anything else needs to be screened in Yerevan. I can't remember the last time I laughed AND cried so hard in one film. Parada ("The Parade"), though centring around an attempt by a group of activists to organize a gay pride parade in Belgrade, touches upon so many subjects, many of which will appear somewhat familiar to Armenian audiences... and more reason why this film has to be screened in Armenia. And this is why I have mixed feelings: because I was able to watch the film while those in Armenia could not (though I am told that "many in Armenia have seen it online via not licensed Russian websites"). 

Yerevan Screening of Serbian Film on LGBT Rights Cancelled AGAIN

Sometimes it seems that it takes years for things to happen in Armenia, while other times things develop so quickly that if you blinked you just might miss the latest development.

One of these developments is the screening of an apparently controversial film called Parada, an “internationally acclaimed Serbian drama dealing with the delicate subject of LGBT rights,” according to an Oct. 15, 2012 press release issued by the EU Delegation in Armenia and the Germany Embassy in Yerevan, which planned on screening the film on Oct. 17 and 18 at Congress Hotel in Yerevan.

Reminiscing... Brazilian Music in Yerevan

Today, I remembered a woman in Armenia I met many, many years ago — young, beautiful, and married to a man slightly older than herself with a beer belly like those of so many men you see in Armenia today. I don't remember how I met this woman, but she was a friend of a friend (I had probably been delivering a parcel to her from an acquaintance in Canada) and after she, her husband, and another young married couple (friends of theirs) took me in their car to some green space outside the city to have khorovats (BBQ — unfortunately, meat, which I did not eat), she welcomed me into her home. 

It was the only moment the two of us were alone and I saw a different side of her — a side that was more passionate than was apparent when she was in the company of her husband and their friends. She took me to a corner of her living room where she had a stereo and played a song by a Brazilian artist. She then confessed her love of Brazilian music and asked me about my musical tastes. The soft melody — which, when I recall this scene years later, reminds me of Bebel Gilberto — in particular, the song "Preciso Dizer Que Te Amo" — in that small Yerevan flat after a boisterous khorovats party took me by surprise. I have since realized that we all create a little corner of the world for ourselves and sometimes that little corner is quite different from the physical place we find ourselves in.

Though I think it's important to "live in the present," I find that sometimes conditions force us to cherish a different present than the one we are currently living — a sad melody that is a reflection of our lives much like the Brazilian music I heard that day.

Georgia on My Mind

I just saw this video and it totally made my day:

Incidentally, I came across another video by Georgian activists a few weeks ago that also had me saying "Respects!". In the video "Men for Gender Equality," Georgian men are saying "I can wash my own feet" in response to the country's Patriarch saying women should be waiting at home to wash their husbands' feet.

I would love to see both of these types of videos by Armenian activists!

*Thanks to Unzipped: Gay Armenia for sharing the videos.

Armenian Broadcast of Eurovision in Baku an Exercise in Propaganda

I wrote this article on May 27, a day after the Grand Final of the 2012 Eurovision Song Contest, with the intention of having it published immediately on Media.am. I submitted it to the editors of this Armenian website that publishes media analysis and critique; however, due to various factors (not having to do with the content or angle of the piece, but rather with technical matters on the organization’s part), it was not published. So I decided to publish it here on my blog. I realize it’s been nearly 3 weeks since the Eurovision contest took place, so I hope you’ll forgive me for publishing old news. I spent a lot of time working on this piece and then waiting for it to be published on Media.am — and then when it wasn’t, I decided it had to be published somewhere. So here it is.

"A few buildings, a bit of culture and some clouds. What all this has to do with the 'Land of Fire' I don’t know," said one of the announcers on Armenian Public TV, commenting on the images of Azerbaijan shown between acts of the Grand Final of the 2012 Eurovision Song Contest held on May 26 in Baku. And so began the tirade of superfluous remarks and ridicule by Armenian hosts on the H1 channel, which decided to air the contest even though the country had opted not to participate this year.

A New Name: Making Connections

(I just realized that this post follows one titled “Not in My Name”. The name theme is purely a coincidence as I’ve been planning to change the name of this blog for quite some time now!)

Like many others, I began a blog to record my travels for family and friends back home. I named this blog “Le Retour in 3 Parts” because I was returning to 3 cities close to my heart — Amsterdam, Paris and Yerevan — in the summer of 2008. Since then, the blog has undergone transformations in style and content to reflect the changes in my life and my purpose for continuing to blog. I am currently living in Armenia, though I have plans to leave the country in the coming months (onto bigger and better things!).

Not In My Name

I have learned so much from living here in Armenia. For one thing, everything is not as it seems. And everything is not black and white. Because I am against something doesn’t mean I’m for that which is perceived as being the opposite of the former. Because I stand by you doesn’t mean we agree on the same things.

And yet, in many ways I am still very much naive. For instance, I did not honestly believe that such a crowd could gather as they did today to protest the Diversity March — widely interpreted and misrepresented as being a parade and a gay parade at that but which was organized to mark the UN World Day for Cultural Diversity — organized by PINK Armenia. The number of counter-demonstrators seemed to be at least four times as many as came out to march. Right away I sensed their aggression, their penchance for violence and ignorant, bigoted rhetoric. Right away I sense we should cancel the march — at least for our safety. 

Armenia State Officials, Public Figures Should Speak Up, Condemn Hate Crime

Regardless of whether you think I’m perverted, mentally ill or should be burned at the stake (some of the terms I’ve heard applied to LGBT people — for example: see comments in this article), you have no right to take the law into your hands. The crime that was committed was a hate crime because it was committed against an establishment viewed as being frequented by members of a specific community and because the accused said one of their motives was that one of the owners of the bar had participated in the gay pride festivities in Istanbul the previous year. These motives, which I was told the brothers named in their confession only to retract them later, amount to hate against a particular individual and a particular group of people — hence, hate crime.

How timely then for ILGA Europe (the European branch of the International LGBT Association) to launch its first annual review of the human rights situation of LGBTI people in Europe and the European neighborhood on May 15, two days before the International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia, a week after DIY was firebombed and the same day the bar was targeted a second time. Needless to say, ILGA Europe ranked Armenia among 10 countries in the negative zone (!) — countries which do not meet even the basic requirements of human rights standards.

Queer-Friendly Yerevan Bar Bombed: What Happens Next?

For the first time since moving to Armenia, I am afraid. Queer women are in the spotlight — an unfamiliar and not at all good place to be in. We perhaps have become used to being invisible here: we can hold hands in public and generally be more affectionate than men without experiencing stares and suspicious glances from passers-by. But now more than ever, it seems, we elicit the same contempt that has traditionally been reserved for gay men (see earlier post).

Living in the Present

Is it just me or does along with the warmer weather and sunshine come children? All of a sudden all those little people adults have been hiding in the winter have appeared literally overnight strolling the city streets, and I can only wonder: who knew so many children live in such a small city?

But children are a comfort and speaking of another sort of comfort…

Sometimes there’s nothing like a big bowl of lentil soup to cure all ills. And though spring has arrived, today is somewhat of a gray day with little sunshine, so what better way to give your stomach a break post-Easter and your soul some comfort than with a bowl of lemony, vermicelli- and spinach-filled soup? I highly recommend it.