A Discovery in Gyumri

Talin Baghdadlian 

New Jersey, United States

“The Journey of Self-Discovery” – a big, brash promise, and for Birthright Armenia volunteers, it’s inescapable. It’s the motto you learn when you apply online. It’s the phrase printed on the complimentary sweatshirt you receive when you arrive. It’s boldly branded on all their communications- Facebook, Twitter, YouTube videos, brochures, and email footers. It’s what’s supposed to encapsulate your experience in Armenia through this program.

About two weeks ago, I expected only to embark on “The Journey to Gyumri to visit an orphanage”…

The Saturday before Easter, a group of Birthright volunteers participated in an excursion to Gyumri where we were scheduled to visit the town and tour the Our Lady of Armenia Boghossian Educational Center, as well as paint Easter eggs with the children. This center houses and schools about 38 orphans and needy children under the auspices of The Congregation of the Armenian Sisters of the Immaculate Conception, and more specifically under the leadership of Sister Arousiag Sajonian. For 25 years, Sister Arousiag has relentlessly worked to ensure that each child who enters the doors of the center is cared for, taught, and nurtured to reach their potential. She proudly boasts of the number of marriages, children, and grandchildren she has witnessed among her “children.” After such a long career in education as hers, it’s no wonder she has cultivated all the necessary skills to make her a rather gifted storyteller. As she explained to us about the center and its children or about the various saints’ portraits hanging in the chapel, all eyes and ears were captivated.

As our large group of volunteers funneled through the doors of the cafeteria for lunch, I happened to be at the back of the group, and so when it was my turn to find a seat, the only places left were at the head table. Along with a few other stranded volunteers we sat down and were pleased to learn that Sister Arousiag would be joining us. My curiosity led me to ask Sister Arousiag more questions about the children, the center, and the life she has led. She spoke at first about her time in Gyumri at the Boghossian Center, then explained how she spoke immaculate English- she lived for nearly 20 years teaching and working in one of the Armenian Catholic schools in Philadelphia, USA. Additionally, between her time in the U.S. and Armenia, she spent nearly 9 years in Rome. Guessing Sister Arousiag must be around 70 years old, and while doing some quick math in my head, I figured she must have studied in the Armenian Catholic nunnery in Rome around the 1950s. I quickly offered some family history and stated that my maternal grandmother had almost become a nun herself before quitting her studies and returning home, and eventually getting married, having children, and then grandchildren, of which I am proudly one. Offering this information was merely meant to be a connecting link in the flow of conversation. What soon followed shocked and amazed me.

Sister Arousiag casually asked what my grandmother’s name was, and as I attempted for a minute to remember her maiden name (for if by any luck they knew each other all those years ago, it would surely be by that name), she looked squarely at me, perhaps to see if I reminded her of anyone she once knew. Then it came to me, “My grandmother’s maiden name was Lusine Zenian.” “Yes, I remember her. We studied together for a couple of years,” said Sister Arousiag with no exaggeration, no attempts at surprise that here we are decades after the last time they saw each other, sitting having lunch, and ever so casually I find out that this incredible woman sitting across the table from me knew my grandmother long before she ever became a grandmother. What followed was a conversation about their time in Rome, what she remembered about my grandmother as a young girl, and an admission that I have my grandmother’s eyes. As we spoke, I began to see that perhaps there are only a few real differences between Sister Arousiag and my grandmother for both women have kept their faith alive all these years, have cared and taught children, and can weave incredible stories.

I had heard the story several times before from my grandmother. She was born in Aleppo, Syria, and in the 1950s when she was just a teenager, she travelled to Rome to study to become an Armenian Catholic nun. She was deeply religious, and at the same time, this was a known means to educate a young girl from a modest family. Many girls would go, study for a few years (for not only were these girls studying religious matters, but also many other subjects in order to train as teachers), and then decide to not take orders. My grandmother became one of these girls. She lived and studied in Rome for about two years, and then was given permission to return home and contemplate furthering her studies and taking orders. At the time, her father had written and pleaded that his only daughter return home one more time. When she arrived back in Syria, it became clear that she wouldn’t return to Rome, both because of her personal reasons and her father’s own motives- he loved her very dearly and didn’t want to see her leave once more. About three months after her return, my grandmother was married and secured in a secular life. She soon mothered two daughters and two sons, and currently she is the grandmother of seven grandchildren. She lived a happy life with her family, but always continued to keep her faith alive through constant prayer, Sunday school teaching, and telling her children and grandchildren endless and beautifully narrated Bible stories.

Now here I was, half a world away from my grandmother who currently lives in California and speaking with an old friend of hers! I was shocked, amazed, baffled. But Sister Arousiag seemed unfazed- amused by my reaction, but completely nonchalant. Perhaps it’s because she’s lived a long enough life to realize that God works in mysterious ways, that fate will bring people together, and that trust in the universe is all you need to discover a piece of yourself in a place so far away from home, but maybe not as far as you might think.