TAKAYUKI YOSHIMURA: "ARMENIAN SOCIETY SLOWLY OPENING UP, JUST LIKE JAPAN"
Hrant Katarikyan
himura/
2010/03/08 | 15:20
Japanese Scholar Researching Post WW II Armenian Repatriation
Rumour has it that you can bump into more than a few interesting and
unusual characters at an opposition rally here in Yerevan. That’s
exactly what happened on March 1, when by pure serendipity, I bumped
into Takayuki Yoshimura.
Mr. Yoshimura, I was soon to find out, hails from Japan where he
teaches Armenian at Tokyo University of Foreign Studies. He’s here
in Yerevan continuing his academic research project on post WWII
repatriation of Diaspora Armenians to Soviet Armenia. The irony soon
hit me for a loop. I mean, what are the chances of meeting a Japanese
scholar researching Armenian repatriation at a Levon Ter-Petrosyan
rally in Yerevan? Repatriation…LTP…
Turns out Takayuki Yoshimura, like many others, thinks LTP is at his
best while studying medieval Armenian history in the Matenadaran
rather than outside, as a political guru exhorting the masses to
action. But that’s another story.
"I first visited Armenia in 1996, as a tourist," Takayuki told me in
Armenian. "I was interested in the national minorities of the Soviet
Union and my main scholarly focus was Russia at the time. Back then,
I wasn’t planning to get involved in Armenian studies, let alone the
repatriation issue."
Hadn’t heard of Armenia before Karabakh movement
When I asked Takayuki what prompted his initial interest in Armenia he
said it was when the Karabakh issue hit the pages of the international
press in 1988. "The Soviet Union was in the process of breaking up and
here you had this tiny enclave at the forefront of developments. To
be honest, I hadn’t even heard of Armenia before this," he said.
Takayuki studied Armenian at Yerevan State University from 2001-2003.
While his spoken eastern Armenian is occasionally halting, it’s fluent
enough to attract the attention of passersby on the street. When
we left the rally on March 1 and walked down Mashtots Prospect,
conversing in Armenian, we were stopped more than once by inquisitive
pedestrians who started to pepper Takayuki with questions.
Since that first visit in 1996, Takayuki has been to Armenia six
times. His more recent visits have taken him to the National Archives
and other libraries for his research on the repatriation issue. It’s
also taken him to various Armenian communities in the Diaspora – the
Mkhitarists in Vienna, the AGBU Library Paris, Haigazian in Beirut
and even Los Angeles.
He’s even been across the border to western Armenia; Kars, Erzeroum,
Van. For this too is part of his research. It’s the land emptied of
its original inhabitants; the source of the repatriation movement
years later.
Tokyo University of Foreign Studies, where he teaches Armenian studies,
partially pays for his travel and other expenses. The university
has no Armenian faculty. Takayuki is a lecturer at the university’s
Institute of Asian and African Languages and Cultures.
He also participates in seminars and forums where the organizers
pick up the costs. This July, he’ll be heading for Stockholm for an
international conference on "Central and Eastern European Studies".
Takayuki said that because of the financial crisis, the school has
cut back on the financing.
"I get the occasional stare on the street"
At the rally, we scheduled to meet the following day to chat further.
Takayuki said he’d be leaving in a week. We met at the Republic
metro stop and walked through the Vernissage to Hetq. We attracted
the inquisitive stare or two. I asked him about it.
"Sometimes it makes me uneasy but I take it in stride. People are
just curious. They’ll stop me on the street and when they find out I
speak Armenian they unburden their life story on me. Sure, they want
to know who I am and what I’m doing here but it quickly turns into a
one-way monologue. I’ve never encountered any problem." Takayuki said.
Picking up the thread, I asked how he spent his free time here. For
example, had he done the tourist route?
"I have many good friends here. Sadly, some have left for economic
reasons. Over the years I’ve been to Karabakh once and the natural
beauty of the land really impressed me. Here in Armenia, I visited
Etchmiadzin, of course, Haghpat, Noravank and Khor Virab. I try to get
out as much as possible with friends but I’m usually busy with work,"
said Takayuki, who just turned forty.
When I asked if he knew of any other Japanese working or studying
here in Yerevan, he said he didn’t. The closest thing Japanese
he’s spotted in Yerevan is a sushi restaurant at the beginning of
Baghramyan Avenue. He did say the Japanese government had financed
several development projects in Armenia, especially in the electricity
grid sector, and had sent specialists in the field What about Armenians
in Japan, I asked. Takayuki said there were maybe 20-30 Armenians in
Tokyo that he knew off, mostly engaged in business.
Japanese linguists interested in classical Armenian
I was somewhat surprised to hear him say that Armenian wasn’t a
particularly different language to learn and that, in terms of syntax,
was quite similar to Japanese. I was even more surprised to hear him
say that there were a handful of Japanese linguists who were studying
the intricacies of "grabar", classical Armenian.
We talked a bit more about his research project on diaspora
repatriation to Armenia after WW II. Takayuki pointed out that one of
the reasons he picked this subject was that something similar took
place in Japan. The country had conquered several areas in the Far
East before being defeated in WW II and there were many Japanese left
stranded in the far-flung empire that eventually found their way back
to Japan.
True, the fundamental reasons for the Japanese and Armenian dispersions
were diametrically opposed, but the desire to return existed in both
cases. It then dawned on me that there were other social and cultural
traits that the two people had in common. The focus on education,
for one. Both in Japan and Armenia many high school kids take
private tutoring classes to get admitted in the best universities
and colleges. Then too, both societies, up till very recently,
were fairly insular and conservative. Mixed marriages are usually
frowned up and Takayuki verified this is still the case in Japan,
despite the recent influx of Chinese and Koreans. There’s also the
powerful social pressure in both nations towards conformity. This
too is slowly being chipped away at both here and there.
When I asked him how his parents reacted to his choosing Russian and
then Armenian studies as a profession, given that Japanese university
grads are groomed for getting prestigious corporate positions,
Takayuki confessed that his folks initially opposed his career choice,
but gradually came to accept it.
"Here take a look at this," Takayuki said, pulling out a slim book
from his briefcase. The writing was in Japanese but on the cover
was a photo of Etchmiadzin. "It’s a new Armenian history guide for
tourists and students that I’ve written." I told him it was too bad
Japan didn’t have an embassy in Armenia; they would have ordered a
few hundred copies. "The guide is sold on newsstands back in Japan
and can be found in the libraries," Takayuki said. "And don’t worry
about the embassy. I figure Japan will open one here in 5 years or
so. We have one in Baku and Tbilisi. Yerevan’s next."
We took some pictures and then made our way out of the Hetq office. It
was a nice sunny day, a harbinger of warmer spring days to come. I
asked Takayuki if he wanted to get a bite to eat. He politely declined,
saying he still had work to do.
"If I don’t see you before you leave, have a good trip and all," I
said, and asked when he expected to return to Armenia. "Can’t really
say; it mostly depends on funding. But I’m shooting for September;
yeah definitely September."
"What’s special about September?" I asked, "Some important conference
in Yerevan?"
"Nothing like that," Takayuki replied grinning. "It’s just that I love
to eat harissa and the repatriates from Mousa Ler make the best. They
have a festival here that month."
I gave him my business card. We shook hands. "See you in September
then for the harissa."