It’s 5:30 a.m. and I am half asleep from 24 hours of travel. I blankly stare out the taxi window as I’m driven out of Zvartnots Airport in Yerevan, and as the car climbs up a hill, I see it for the first time – Mount Ararat. I snap out of my zombie-like state and am overcome with a multitude of emotions – a response that became a common occurrence during my time in Armenia.

Photo: Charlotte Snoonian

Within my first 20 minutes out of the airport, I already had an unexpected emotional reaction that felt like it came from my soul. As an Armenian-American, this was my first time visiting Armenia, and I didn’t know at the start how much my identity would change in the next two months.

Before coming to Armenia for the first time, I always felt a strong connection to my heritage even though I didn’t have an Armenian community in the U.S. It felt like Armenia was somewhere deep in my soul, but I never had the experiences I needed for it to fully express itself. 

I would always be proud to tell people I’m Armenian, but I really only felt it as my ethnicity. I sometimes felt like I wasn’t Armenian “enough” because I didn’t learn the language or grow up in an Armenian community, but my time in Armenia has shown me that this piece of my identity has always been strongly rooted within.

Photo: Charlotte Snoonian

I came to Armenia with few expectations. It was important to me to be able to experience life in Armenia without any presumptions dictating how my time went. I had a few insights based on things I learned growing up, but none of it was based on experience. I didn’t know much about what Armenia would physically look like or what traditions I would experience, and these were the things I was most excited for. I didn’t want my experience as a diasporan to be influenced by other peoples’ perceptions I could find on social media or online, and avoiding that helped me naturally immerse myself.

I didn’t know a lot about what to expect of the nature in Armenia, but what I found was incredible. The mountains in Meghri made up the best view I’ve ever seen, and the tall pine trees in Dilijan created a stunning, dark green landscape. It’s a small country, but the landscapes change so quickly. It’s special to be in a place with so much beautiful, unique scenery.

The hospitality is beautiful too. It was not unexpected, but I was surprised to be let into strangers’ homes for coffee and sweets after only knowing them for a few minutes. People simply wanted to connect, and it reminded me of the kindness of humanity. In a small country, it seems as though everyone is connected in some way, and everyone wants to help each other. It’s the type of community I long for in the U.S.

Photo: Charlotte Snoonian

Having not grown up in an Armenian community, I wasn’t introduced to a lot of Armenian traditions or customs, but I learned that a few little things I do have Armenian characteristics. Through birthday celebrations for many people during my time here, I quickly learned that the way I plan celebrations is a lot like celebrations in Armenia. I love to celebrate anything no matter how small it may seem, and in Armenia, frequent celebrations are custom.

Photo: Charlotte Snoonian

Even as a young child, I could feel my roots in my soul. At seven years old, I took a school project as an opportunity to share my heritage with my classmates, and I continued to take any opportunity in school to teach my peers about Armenian history and culture. I needed people to know about Armenia and its history, but I also always wanted to highlight its beautiful, unique culture even though I had never visited.

Photo: Charlotte Snoonian

Now, after spending two months in Armenia, I feel as though a dormant piece of my soul has been given life. I’ve learned that it’s a piece that was always there, but I needed to reconnect with my heritage in the place it came from for it to fully reveal itself. The experience has left me wondering where my cultural identity can go from here, and I think it will evolve for the rest of my life. It’s an exciting, uncertain journey that I eagerly embrace.

Also read:

Life among landmines: the daily threats in Armenia’s border villages

Small towns, big mountains and even bigger stories: a journey through Syunik

Colors of Kapan: a gallery of childhood memories and war

By Charlotte Snoonian

Charlotte Snoonian is an Armenian-American student from Boston. She visited Armenia through the initiative of The Armenian Project (TAP) created by the Hovnanyan Foundation and was an intern at Mediamax.