Author: Arsine Chaltikian

posted on: Friday September 3, 2021

A guest may often ask his or her host this question: “Do you have a bathroom?” Some people call this an inane or insane question. I, however, think it’s both perfectly ane and sane. I am suspicious by nature and can sympathize with someone afflicted with reasonable doubt as to whether his host possesses a bathroom. Some people might suggest that the question “Where’s your bathroom?” is more suitable, but those people are naïve, because the question “Where’s your bathroom?” assumes two facts not in evidence: one, that the host actually has a bathroom, and two, that the host is willing to share that information. Like I said, I’m suspicious. I can all too easily imagine a host being gripped by the sadistic impulse to withhold the answer to that question. I’ve certainly had that impulse towards certain people in my house. I can also imagine a scenario where the host has no bathroom. That is a terrible thought but I find comfort in the notion that that depraved person will someday encounter a just God. 

I like the question “Do you have a bathroom?” just fine. But it is precisely this sort of pleasant question on which I can only reflect nostalgically, because at every semester’s beginning I encounter more questions that I don’t like than questions that I do like. One of these is “Where are you from?” I have found that I am unable to answer this question without hesitating, no matter how often I am asked it. So, mental mouth agape in confusion, I hesitate. Probably, since it’s a pretty easy question, I look like a ditz—or like someone with something to hide. The truth is nearer the latter. 

The safe, half-truth answer is that I’m from Massachusetts. Insofar as my family lives in Massachusetts, this is true, but prior to that, I have lived in Ohio, Michigan, Mississippi, Michigan again, Washington, and Connecticut. That’s a can of worms that I seldom open, but if I should do so, the follow-up questions are predictable. No, neither of my parents was in the military. Were we in the Witness Protection Program, ha-ha? 

Well, funny guy, I answer, you’re not so far off. 

Since 1986, my family has been on the run from the Los Angeles Armenians.  

It all began at my sister’s third birthday party in the mid-1980s, in Glendale, California. The birthday party was supposed to take place at a local park, and so early that morning my dad and my two grandfathers ventured there to stake their territory and escape the party preparations. After an hour or two, a large contingent of the local Armenian population came upon them. (How my forefathers determined that they were part of the Armenian population has escaped my memory—maybe they were waving flags.) The Armenians claimed the territory as theirs for a family reunion. My Irish forefathers claimed it as theirs for a family birthday party. The Armenians made a case for theirs being the greater need. The Irish cited the policy of first-come, first-serve. The Armenians said something to the effect of, those who serve last serve best, and muttering darkly (or so I imagine), retreated, but set up camp within spitting distance of the Irish. Every time my parents glanced in that direction, they were met with Armenian glares, and when they left, the Armenian glares followed them. The Armenian glares have followed us from California to Washington to Ohio to Michigan to Mississippi to Michigan to Washington to Connecticut to Massachusetts. My parents are even now plotting their next move. 

Do you really think that a gang of California Armenians are out to get you, after thirty-five years, over a measly park table, you ask? No. I don’t think they’re out to get us over the table. I think they’re out to get us with the table. A sturdy park table is a great battering ram, and he who finds one finds a treasure. I think I’ll know when my time is running out. I think I’ll wake up some morning and find a park table out in the yard. Then the next day I’ll wake up and find a little toy park table on my pillow, and that will be the last thing I ever see. 

L.A. Armenians, if you’re reading this, let my people go. Let the park table stand between us no more.  

And as this semester begins, and I arm myself with the required biographical facts, I still don’t have a satisfactory answer to the question “Where are you from?” Satisfactory for me, anyway. I can tell you where I’m not from, though, and I am definitely not from Massachusetts. On no planet, am I from Massachusetts. At the risk of offending the Massachusetts people as well as the Armenians, maybe that’s a good answer to give. 

The Surp Yerrortutyun (Holy Trinity) Armenian Church in Malatya, in east-central Turkey, on August 29 hosted its first religious service since the Armenian genocide of 1915, Turkish Minute reported.

According to Alin Ozinian’s story, Holy Trinity Church – built in the second half of the 18th century — was renovated by the Malatya Metropolitan Municipality and reopened as the Taşhoran Culture and Art Center. “From now on, the Armenian sanctuary will serve as a cultural center and the Armenian community will be allowed to hold liturgical, baptism and wedding ceremonies,” a statement released by the municipality said.

After 106 years Surp Yerrortutyun, which was long in ruins and had been closed for congregational use since 1915, reopened its doors to worship.

The restoration, which began in 2012, was halted due to a lack of funding and then restarted and completed under the auspices of Malatya Mayor Selahattin Gürkan.

The Benevolent Malatya Armenians Association (HAYDER), established in 2010 in Istanbul, provided financial support for the restoration of the church’s altar, dome and baptistery and also participated in designing the renovation.

Armenians from across the country attended the opening ceremony and the first Sunday service at the church, located in the neighborhood where assassinated Armenian-Turkish journalist Hrant Dink had grown up, which was held with the participation of Armenian Patriarch of Turkey Sahak Maşalyan.

Yetvart Danzikyan, editor-in-chief of the Agos weekly newspaper, thinks it would be better if the Armenian Patriarchate in Istanbul had done the renovation but said it was financially impossible.

“The church opened as a culture and arts center. While it isn’t an ideal formula, maybe we should look at the bright side of things and accept this as the ‘salvation of the church.’ In Turkey, hundreds of churches are being destroyed and turned into ruins. The church in Malatya has somehow been renovated,” Danzikyan told Turkish Minute in a phone interview.

Armenian Patriarch in Turkey Maşalyan and Grigoriyos Melki Urek, deputy patriarch and the metropolitan bishop of Adıyaman, as well as Malatya Mayor Gürkan and Malatya Governor Aydın Baruş attended the opening ceremony.

“The opening of the Surp Yerrortutyun Church is a milestone for this region. For the Armenians of Malatya, this is a feast day,” said the Armenian patriarch.

According to Danzikyan, similar steps have been taken before, such as the reopening of the 10th-century Akhtamar Church situated on an island in Lake Van in eastern Turkey, but unless these steps are supported politically, we should not expect further progress in Turkish-Armenian relations.

In 2006 the Turkish government carried out a rehabilitation project to preserve the historical identity of the Akhtamar Church. In 2007 the church was opened to visitors as a museum. In 2010 the government decided to open the church for religious ceremonies once a year.

“I don’t think the opening of the Surp Yerrortutyun Church is a milestone or that it will have a hugely positive effect on Turkish-Armenian dialogue. But eventually the new Turkish generation living in Malatya will learn that Armenians once lived there,” said Danzikyan.

There have been ongoing concerns about the preservation of Armenian cultural and religious sites in Turkey. In January 2020 a 19th-century Armenian church was put up for sale on a Turkish real estate website. On January 26 Agos reported that an Armenian church dating to 1603 in the western province of Kütahya that was on the Turkish Ministry of Culture and Tourism’s preservation list was demolished after it was acquired by a private party.

Another Armenian church, also named Surp Yerrortutyun (Holy Trinity), will serve as the “World’s Masters of Humor Art House” as part of a project to establish a “humor village” in central Turkey’s Akşehir district.

Aris Nalcı, an Istanbul-Armenian journalist based in Brussels, thinks the renovation was a success for HAYDER, which was able to establish good relations with the Malatya Metropolitan Municipality.

“Although the church opened under the name of a culture center, it seems that the government will allow Armenians to perform religious ceremonies there. HAYDER exerted great efforts for this project. Malatya Armenians living outside Malatya are still deeply attached to the city. Even though a few Armenians still live there, people who left Malatya during the ’70s and ’80s still visit Malatya to preserve their culture,” Nalcı said.

According to Armenian sources, there is a tiny Armenian community of 60 people in Malatya at the moment; however, there are several Armenians and Islamized Armenians who live in the city using Turkish names whose numbers are not clear.

The aim of the establishment of HAYDER in 2010 was to reunite the Malatya Armenians scattered all over the world with their hometown and to repair the Armenian cemetery in the city. This goal was accomplished, and the cemetery was landscaped and reopened in 2013.

“The renovation of the church is a positive step, but I don’t see it as an important move for regional tourism or Turkish-Armenian dialogue. Moreover, I am now skeptical of every step Turkey’s ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) government takes,” said Nalcı.

According to Nalcı, the AKP, like previous Turkish governments, is not interested in the protection of Armenian culture in Turkey. “The church was not reopened as a church, an important indication of the political atmosphere in Turkey. As long as it remains a culture center, the Armenian patriarch will not be able to even appoint a priest to the church. If everything had been done correctly, the church would have reopened as a church and a cross would have been installed there.”

However, Garabed Orunöz a board member of HAYDER, said in an interview with the Turkish press: “The patriarchate will not appoint a clergyman to the church, but Father Avedis Tabasian of the Hatay Samandağ Church will perform the rites and ceremonies in Malatya. He will go to Malatya from time to time to carry out his duties.”

According to Danzikyan the Turkish government does not have a general policy of preservation for Armenian historical monuments and churches. “It seems that this renovation was the result of an initiative taken by the Armenians of Malatya. With the help of their good relations with the governor and the mayor, they developed a cooperation and succeeded in securing their church. But other places of Armenian heritage in different Turkish cities are unfortunately at the mercy of treasure hunters, and the government is not willing to take any steps in these areas,” he said.

In recent years countless reports have emerged of sacked ancient churches and cemeteries in Turkey and houses that have collapsed due to excavations for contraband treasure. Looters dig into and destroy Armenian churches in the hope of finding treasure; however, what they sometimes find are ancient coins, bibles and crosses to be sold in illegal black-market auctions.

After a comfortable, if uninspiring, win in his first match, Hansi Flick welcomes Armenia for his first home game. The former Bayern Munich coach will have to shuffle the pack a little as he gets to know his new team.