DEMOCRATIC PARTY OF ARMENIA TO PARTICIPATE IN 2007 ELECTIONS WITH
POLITICAL BLOC FORMED ONLY ON IDEOLOGICAL BASIS
YEREVAN, AUGUST 18, NOYAN TAPAN. The Democratic Party of Armenia
(DPA) will participate in the 2007 parliamentary elections either with
political bloc or with party potential. DPA Chairman Aram G.Sargsian
informed about it at the August 18 press conference. He mentioned
that the political bloc must be formed only and only on a political
basis and must have a joint program.
According to A.Sargsian, it’s possible to form a wide political
coalition only in the case when all will agree “to break the political
system’s back” till the elections, as only in that case, it will be
possible to make system changes in the country. And, according to
the speaker’s words, the people’s assistance is necessary to form
wide coalition. A.Sargsian mentioned that in a similar case, when
“the country’s criminalization continues at the highest speed,” it’s
a naivety to expect holding of legal elections. According to the DPA
head’s observation, all these are a consequance of the reality that
has been created in Armenia since 1990s, from the process of getting
property in illegal way.
“Now they will make an attempt to divide the power among the criminals
as those got property in illegal way must now get the biggest part
of the power,” A.Sargsian said. And, according to his words, the
“ruling pyramid” assists all these. Steps taken by it “will once and
for all bury the political field, at least incompletely existing in
Armenia. Touching upon the issue of future fate of the “Ardarutiun”
(Justice) faction, the speaker mentioned that it was formed as
a pre-electoral alliance, and on the threshold of new elections,
parties making a part of that alliance may form a new political
bloc. “If there were no scandalous elections of 2003, we would not
appear in an alliance formed of parties having so various ideas,”
the DPA Chairman stated.

ARMENIAN GOVERNMENT APPROVES CONCEPT ON REGULATION OF VAT PAYMENT
FROM AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTION SALE
YEREVAN, AUGUST 18, NOYAN TAPAN. At the August 18 sitting, the Armenian
government approved the concept on regulation of value added tax (VAT)
payment from the sale of agricultural products. NT was informed about
it from the RA Government Information and PR Department. The aim of the
concept is to assess the abolition of VAT’s privilege from the sale of
agricultural products by the producer within the framework of Armenia’s
obligations to the International Trade Organization and to develop
the possible approaches and measures aimed at its mitigation. One of
the concept’s major tasks is to study international experience and
propose structures of VAT regulation in the agricultural sphere based
on the policy of Armenia’s socio-economic development. The RA Minister
of Agriculture was instructed to submit, within two months and in
coordination with the Ministry of Finance and Economy, the Ministry
of Trade and Economic Development and the State Tax Service adjunct
to the RA government, a program of measures aimed at fulfilment of
the concept’s provisions.

FOURTH MONASTIC CONGRESS CONTINUES WORK AT VAZGENIAN SEMINARY OF SEVAN
SEVAN, AUGUST 18, NOYAN TAPAN. Two regular meetings of the fourth
monastic congress, which opened in the Mother See of Holy Echmiadzin
the day before, were held at the Vazgenian Seminary of Sevan on August
17. During the meetings, Archmandrite Mkrtich Proshian, inspector of
the Vazgenian Seminary, made the report “The Monk as a Teacher of
Belief”, and Archmandrite Komitas Hovnanian (Marseilles, France) –
the report “The Monk as a Preacher”. The participants discussed the
problems addressed in these reports. According to the information
system of the Mother See of Holy Echmiadzin, following the meeting,
the monks participated in the evening divine service held in Surb
Arakelots Monastery of Sevan.

“NATION AND HERITAGE” ALL-ARMENIAN YOUTH CONFERENCE TO BE HELD IN
NKR IN SEPTEMBER
STEPANAKERT, AUGUST 18, NOYAN TAPAN. The All-Armenian Youth
Conference entitled “Nation and Heritage” which is dedicated to the
15th anniversary of the NKR proclamation will be held in the NKR on
September 25-30. The goal of this initiative of the NKR Ministry
of Education, Culture and Sports is to increase young people’s
public-civil activeness, to guarantee participants’ complete
awareness concerning the Karabakh problem, to present the Artsakh
culture to youth, to raise most modern issues arisen in front of the
youth. 18-35 year old young people, students, representatives of youth
structures will participate in the conference. They will make reports
dedicated the Karabakh conflict, social-economic development, fixing
of national ideas and values in the NKR, patriotic education in the
army and among youth, the Armenian spiritual and material culture,
problems of youth cooperation.

RA GOVERNMENT APPROVES DRAFT TO 2007 PROGRAM ON CHILDREN’S RIGHTS
PROTECTION
YEREVAN, AUGUST 18, NOYAN TAPAN. The draft to the 2007 annual program
on protection of the children’s rights was approved at the August 18
sitting of the RA Government. As Noyan Tapan was informed by the RA
Government’s Information and Public Relations Department, it will
be presented according the fixed order to the National Assembly in
the RA draft law “On 2007 State Budget.” The program was worked out
in correspondence with the RA law “On Children’s Rights.” The annual
program is aimed to improvement of the legislation of the children’s
sphere, to children’s social security, improvement of health care
problems, reforms of the education sphere, organization of rest,
entertainment and cultural life. It was mentioned at the sitting that
the program is consonant with the strategic program on overcoming
poverty adopted by the RA Government and is aimed to the strategy of
reforms on social protection of children in difficult life situations.

On the fringes of the former USSR, entire ‘countries’ exist that pay little
heed to official borders. But what is life really like in these unlikely
relics of Soviet history?
The Independent – United Kingdom; Aug 19, 2006
Jonas Bendiksen
Transdniester
History has moved on without Transdniester, a 1,500-square-mile sliver
of land between the Dniester River, in Moldova, and the border with
Ukraine.
Moldova became an independent country following the collapse of the
Soviet Union.
Consequently, its culture began to reemerge after years of
Russification, and the country inched closer politically to its
neighbour to the west, Romania, whose language is virtually identical
to Moldovan. But the peripheral region of Transdniester, which is
inhabited by a higher percentage of ethnic Russians, refused to be
part of the new order.
Separatists in Transdniester unilaterally declared independence. Then,
in 1992, they won a short, bloody civil war. Since then, the
self-styled republic has quietly staked a claim as eastern Europe’s
newest fully fledged country, with its own constitution, president,
army, flag, passports and currency. Most other countries have not paid
much attention, however’ in fact, no country has officially recognised
Transdniester as an independent state. But that hasn’t stopped it from
acting like one. Why would it, sitting as it does on one of Europe’s
largest stockpiles of weapons and ammunition? Part of Transdniester’s
ability to hold its own lies in the 50,000 weapons and 40,000 tons
of ammunition that the Russians neglected to take home with them. In
fact, Russia still keeps a contingent of its troops there.
Transdniester is founded on a curious blend of Soviet political theory
and dubious business ethics. Its economy is said to be heavily grounded
in its role as a major hub for the smuggling of weapons, drugs, oil,
alcohol, cigarettes, and human beings. Its massive arms stockpile
functions as a depot for illicit arms-smuggling operations around
the globe.
Nostalgia for the USSR runs high among the people and a gloomy feeling
of mildewed stagnation clung to me throughout my stay. I spent one
evening sitting around and taking photographs in a bar called Krasnaya
Zhara, or “Red Heat”.
Soviet decor hung on the walls’ Marx, Engels and Lenin scowled at
the patrons drinking warm beer below them. After only a few clicks
of the shutter the barmaid began to yell at me. “Why are you taking
pictures? We are proud of all this! … To you this means nothing,
but we’re proud of it. Our life was better then.”
I sat down and finished my beer. The bar slowly came to life, and
I observed the hullabaloo of the middle-aged crowd as it danced to
the tunes of Soviet-era pop crooners. Above the windows shrouded
by curtains, loud red banners proclaimed a proletarian bliss that
never quite arrived. As I got up to leave, I realised that, for the
residents of Transdniester, the break with Moldova was a matter not
just of territory, but of seceding from the present and laying claim
to the past.
Abkhazia
Before the Soviet empire crumbled, Abkhazia ranked as one of the
premier Soviet beach resorts, attracting the most well-connected
apparatchiks and fortunate workers to its waterfronts, spas and
hotels. Located in the north-west corner of the former Soviet republic
of Georgia, it offered a stunning contrast of pristine, snow-topped
mountains and palmlined beaches. Its allure extended to all levels of
society: Josef Stalin and his henchman, Lavrenti Beria, kept dachas,
or villas, of their own here.
Abkhazia is anything but bustling these days. In fact, it has
hardly stirred since 1993, after the end of a 13-month-long war with
neighbouring Georgia.
Ten thousand people died, and two-thirds of the population fled. Today,
in the Abkhaz capital of Sukhum, empty shells of buildings stand
wearily – burned down, bombed out and partially decomposed from heat,
salt and disuse.
The war started just a year after Georgia seceded from the Soviet Union
in 1991. Abkhazia, in turn, sought independence from Georgia. The
Abkhaz, a separate ethnic group with their own language, were still
stinging from the Soviet policy of forcibly moving people from Georgia
proper into Abkhazia. The war, although brief, raged with Chechnya-like
ferocity. In the end, the Abkhaz fighters beat back the Georgians with
help from an odd set of partners: Russia secretly contributed artillery
and air power, and Shamil Basayev, the now infamous Chechen leader, was
part of a ferocious band of volunteer fighters. As the Georgian army
retreated, terrified ethnic Georgians followed, many on foot. Their
departure drained Abkhazia’s cities and left the country half empty.
A UN-monitored embargo keeps it that way. Abkhazia’s only viable
economic hope today is a revival of tourism, and its Black Sea beach
resorts attract a motley crew of holidaying Russians. For two months
a year, the country’s roads brim with red tour buses from the north,
breathing life into its silent cities. Some visitors are drawn
by nostalgia for the place where they spent the summers of their
childhoods. Most, though, are drawn by the bargains that come with
vacationing in a cash-strapped country that doesn’t officially exist,
and turn their tan-lined backs to the ruins of war behind them to
face the warm, cleansing waters of the sea.
The Ferghana Valley
Each time I crossed the 13,000-foot-high mountain passes on my way
into the lush Ferghana Valley, the sudden change from Central Asia’s
standard tan and gray palette jolted my eyes into observance. The
valley’s verdant fields make i t both the most fertile and most
densely populated part of Central Asia. In centuries past, the valley
had been a crucial segment of the great Silk Road, an ancient trade
conduit for precious materials and spices, as well as knowledge and
culture. Today, after the Soviet Union’s collapse, it is a transit
point for much of the enormous quantity of heroin bound for Russia
and Europe from Afghanistan.
Another consequence of the fall of the USSR was the relaxation,
after 70 years, of religious oppression by the government. As a
result, many of the valley’s Muslims emerged from underground to
worship publicly. Others rediscovered their religious heritage and
traditions. Both trends gave local governments pause. Fearing the rise
of a politicised brand of Islamic extremism, leaders of the three newly
independent countries that share the valley – Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan
and Tajikistan – cracked down on what they viewed as fundamentalist
Islam. In the largest and most repressive of the three, Uzbekistan,
all unsanctioned religious expression is brutally repressed. Western
human-rights observers put the number of men imprisoned for religious
activity at 7,000.
Ordinary Muslim behaviour – praying in public, wearing beards, studying
the Koran, or dressing in traditional Islamic clothing – can result
in arrest and criminal charges of extremism. Prison sentences of up
to 18 years are common.
Torture is rampant.
Not surprisingly, this repression has forced Islam underground and
into the hands of organisations like Hizb-ut-Tahrir, which calls
for the creation of a Muslim caliphate, governed by Shariah law. One
balmy evening in 2002, I attended prayers in an underground mosque
in Margilan, one of the valley’s main Uzbek cities. My guide knocked
on an unmarked door identical to dozens of others nearby. Inside,
the courtyard looked like countless others I had seen, with children
playing and young women preparing supper. But here, in one corner,
about two dozen men and boys removed their slippers and entered one
of the dwellings. I joined the crowd, and sat down on a silk pillow.
My eyes slowly adjusted to the dim interior of the
living-room-cum-mosque, as the group recited verses from the Koran,
teaching their sons the suras and speaking to one another in hushed
voices. In this secret room, the government’s persecution seemed far
away, and the dream of an Islamic state in the Ferghana Valley seemed
as real as the carpet upon which we were sitting. Nobody spoke of
violent overthrow, or civil war, but the sound of each verse felt
like a blow against the godless and violent men who dominated the
worshippers.
Birobidzhan
In 1928, two decades before the creation of Israel, Josef Stalin
established the Jewish Autonomous Region as the first modern homeland
for the Jews.
Occupying an area the size of Belgium, the region is located in
far eastern Siberia on Russia’s border with northern China. Before
Stalin came along, the region had nothing whatsoever to do with Jews,
or Judaism.
Having a “Zion” on the USSR’s eastern flank offered several advantages
to Soviet authorities in the 1920s. For one, the Zionist movement
was gaining momentum worldwide, creating a potentially dangerous
intellectual ferment among the Soviet Union’s 2.5 million Jews. What
better way to deflate the movement than to lure activists 5,000 miles
away to a vast, largely uninhabited swampland? Communist leaders
were also looking to populate the long, vulnerable border with China,
an area damned by harsh Siberian winters and hot, mosquito-infested
summers.
Fleeing persecution and famine in western Russia and Ukraine, many of
the region’s first settlers needed little convincing to go. Between
1928 and 1938, more than 40,000 Jews made the journey. They arrived
with few supplies and little preparation for the extreme cold and
severe isolation.
Despite the harsh realities they encountered, by the mid-1930s,
for a short period, the Jewish Autonomous Region’s capital city of
Birobidzhan thrived: a Yiddish theatre flourished, and local writers
produced Yiddish literature and newspapers. The region even attracted
foreign Jews from as far away as the United States, Argentina and
France. However, this was all doomed. In 1936, Stalin unleashed the
Great Terror nationwide, the first of a series of nightmarish purges
that effectively eliminated Jewish culture in the region. By 1948,
all Jewish institutions were shut down, and most of the local Jewish
leaders had been killed.
By the time the Soviet Union collapsed, the Jews of Birobidzhan
had faced decades of isolation, economic hardship, and religious
persecution. The result was the highest rate of Jewish exodus in
post-Soviet Russia. During just one month during my stay in 1998,
six charter jets full of emigrating Jews departed for Israel. The
resettlements were sponsored by the Jewish Agency, an Israeli
organisation, and were open to anyone – along with a spouse and
children – who could prove they had a Jewish grandparent.
Thus, barely half a century after their parents had built their Soviet
“promised land”, most members of the next generation departed in
search of a better place. By the end of the 1990s, the vast majority
of Birobidzhani Jews had traded in the Siberian winter for the heat
of the Middle East.
The region even attracted foreign Jews from as far away as France,
the US and Argentina
Nagorno-Karabakh
Nagorno-Karabakh is the site of one of the bloodiest wars to follow
the collapse of the Soviet Union. The fertile, mountainous land
is inhabited largely by ethnic Armenians, yet situated within the
borders of Azerbaijan. Armenians and Azeris battled over Nagorno-
Karabakh from 1990 to 1994, another episode in the long, complex
history of a place that looms large in the identities of both ethnic
groups: Armenians view it as the cradle of their Christian culture,
the home of medieval monasteries and churches’ Azeris, too, view it as
the native soil of their ancient culture, yet as an outpost for Islam.
The war ultimately claimed the lives of at least 25,000 people and
created some 600,000 refugees. Nagorno-Karabakh was emptied of its
entire population of Azeris, who either fled or were killed. The
Karabakh Armenians then attempted to establish an independent country
with indissoluble ties to Armenia, albeit fully encircled by Azeri
territory. More than a decade after the ceasefire, Nagorno-Karabakh
remains at the centre of an unresolved dispute that continues to
bring ethnic and economic blight to the south Caucasus.
I arrived in Stepanakert, the sleepy capital of the self-styled
republic a few days after Christmas. While I was registering at the
foreign ministry, the deputy minister invited me to travel wherever I
wanted, with one exception: the eastern frontier, near the border with
Azerbaijan. “What about Aghdam?”- the town once inhabited by 50,000
Azeris and only 15 miles from Stepanakert – I asked. “No, you can’t go
there. It’s impossible, forbidden,” he replied curtly. I understood
that I risked the loss of his goodwill if I enquired further. So I
did as I was told, and went sightseeing.
Still, I was equally curious to learn the Azeri story. As I navigated
the small territory, I asked my various drivers if they would take
me to see Aghdam.
My question was not well received’ most were quick to change the
subject. At last I befriended a policeman-turned-taxi driver who
had fought in the Aghdam area. Mellowed by a decade of wary peace,
he agreed to take me.
We sped eastward down the empty road. Only later would I understand
that he had taken me there so that I could see what would have happened
to the Armenians if they had lost the war. After about 20 minutes we
reached Aghdam – or, more precisely, what was left of it. We drove past
the skeletons of thousands of concrete houses and I saw the towering
minarets of the city’s mosque, which appeared to be the only building
still standing. In a curiously awkward hearts-and-minds operation,
this one mosque had been left largely intact by the Armenians in
order to show some degree of respect for their Muslim enemy.
We stopped, and I went inside. I clambered up a spiral staircase to
the top of one of the minarets, and gazed over the desolation. It was
then that I realised that I had seen pieces of Aghdam countless times
during my stay. After the Armenians captured the town, they carted
away its bricks, windows, wiring, plumbing, floor tiles and roofs
for use in the reconstruction of Stepanakert, and elsewhere. Now,
all that was left of Aghdam was a mini- Hiroshima of a landscape,
the starkest war memorial I had ever seen.
‘Satellites: Photographs from the Fringes of the Former Soviet Union’,
by Jonas Bendiksen, is published by Aperture, pounds 19.50.To order
the book at a special price (with free p&p) call Independent Books
Direct on 08700 798897

Azeri leader calls for better fight against Armenian lobby
Azartac news agency, Baku
18 Aug 06
18 August: President Ilham Aliyev said at the second gathering of
the heads of Azerbaijan’s diplomatic missions abroad that powerful
Armenian lobby organizations are carrying out a smear campaign against
our republic abroad every day. The Armenian lobby is also behind some
biased foreign media reports about Azerbaijan, Aliyev said.
The president stressed that we should strengthen our policies and
struggle in this area. He said Azerbaijan’s diplomatic missions
should be very active on this issue. They have to maintain close ties
not only with the state agencies of the countries where they work,
but also with members of parliament, non-governmental organizations,
the media and the public in order to inform them of the truth about
Azerbaijan, the president said. Aliyev said Azerbaijan has opened
embassies in 21 countries over the past two years.
[Passage omitted: Aliyev said Azerbaijan needs more embassies abroad
to strengthen its international standing]

Armenia sells major rubber plant to British company
Arminfo
18 Aug 06
Yerevan, 18 August: The Armenian government today decided to sell 90
per cent of the shares of the state-owned closed-typed stock company
the Nairit factory – the only producer of polychloroprene rubber in
the Commonwealth of Independent States – to the British-Irish company
Rhinoville Property Limited for 40m dollars, the government said in
a press release.
The press release said the British-Irish company had applied to buy
the plant and said it could invest in the plant to upgrade it.
The government instructed the energy minister to allow the Armgazprom
joint-stock company to sell 90 per cent of the shares of the Nairit
factory to the foreign investor for 40m dollars.
[Passage omitted: details]
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress

An African Journal: The Translated Stories of Raymond Boghos Kupelian
By Hovig Tchalian
Critics’ Forum
Literature
8.19.2006
The recently published collection of stories by Raymond Boghos
Kupelian, African Symphony (AuthorHouse, 2006), marks a return of
sorts, for both the author and his readers. The volume translates
Kupelian’s second collection of stories of the same name, originally
written three decades ago in Armenian. They also chronicle the thoughts
and experiences of a man who emigrated to West Africa from Lebanon,
where he grew up, leaving yet again twenty years later for Southern
California, where this first English-language volume now appears.
It is significant that Kupelian left Lebanon voluntarily. A recent
article quotes him as saying that “the beauty of the forest, …
nature … everything was different” in Africa than it was in Lebanon
(Glendale News Press, 8/01/06). There is little or no nostalgia
for Lebanon, no longing for the past, in Kupelian’s statement,
but a search for something new. And that same spirit of discovery
is evident in the volume, which seems more concerned with what the
author’s biography refers to as the “immediacy” of its subject.
The tales themselves do not exhibit the structure of the classical
short story-with its dramatic conflict, swift progression and equally
dramatic conclusion. Kupelian’s stories feel more like journal entries
written on a tranquil beach, one sentence at a time, then reworked
months or years later. They invite a reading that shares that same
leisurely spirit.
One of the better known stories in the collection, “Surie Una Man,”
is written in that leisurely spirit. It tells the tale of Surie,
an African servant who takes a younger second wife and jeopardizes
his manhood and his family’s well-being in the process. The story
is perhaps the collection’s least convincingly translated. Certain
passages sound awkward, almost as though they had been translated
verbatim from Armenian, such as in this passage, which describes
Surie’s brief brush with schooling: “Next day, in the evening hours,
for the first time in his life, Surie stepped into school! Sitting
like a bishop in the back of the car, he entered through the gate of
the establishment.” (52).
Much better translated is “The Bush in the Man.” In it, Bomboli, a
disgraced Minister of Education now awaiting trial in jail, mourns the
loss of his former glory. It begins with a description of Bomboli’s
recurring dream, in which a boy fishing in a boat is attacked by a
crocodile, which turns out to be a man in disguise who takes the boy’s
body deep into the jungle. The rest of the story takes a cue from the
dream, weaving in and out of the minister’s thoughts and telling a
kind of morality tale or fable. Along the way, we find out that the
minister, a former schoolteacher, had a rapid rise to glory and an
equally rapid demise, after being accused by British authorities of
witchcraft and cannibalism. The story succeeds in touching on issues
of culture and colonialism, without being unnecessarily didactic
or preachy.
Less successful is “Despot,” a story of a white Englishwoman who falls
in love with an African man who later becomes his (unnamed) country’s
ruler. After his exile and death, she is pressured to publish her
journals, which recount the torrid and well-publicized affair. But
she refuses on principle. Here is where the leisurely spirit of the
book goes awry. The tale seems to tie episodes loosely together,
while balancing an apparent moral at the center of it. All the while,
the narrator’s voice intrudes too often, as in this example, where he
explains the woman’s actions: “It was evident. Hers was an idealized
love for an absolutely great man. She needed to keep it immaculate”
(70).
By far the best story in the collection is “Kookoo Sherif.” It is
the wrenching but subtle tale of the African girl referred to in the
title, molested by a Middle Eastern shop-owner, in exchange for a
pair of shoes she has spotted in his store window. The repercussions
of that emblematic, brutal barter at the heart of the story-goods
for people-reverberate until the end. But the tale also allows the
girl’s story to unfold gradually and convincingly.
Kookoo grows into a woman of the streets and eventually falls in love
with a young African revolutionary, who is soon imprisoned for his
ideas. In the end, she manages to turn the tables on her oppressors
by pretending to be the mistress of a high-ranking mulatto official
(mulattos in some cases being the offspring of illegitimate unions
between black Africans and white immigrants).
The scandal the story creates allows her to trick him and her own
past oppressors (the shop-owner chief among them), freeing her lover
from prison in the process. The story develops from conflict to
resolution in sure-handed and compelling fashion, using the tension
of the narrative to tie the various details together. It embodies
better than any other story in the collection the promise fulfilled
more fully in Kupelian’s later works.
The book’s first story and its last tie the collection together and
add the structure and cohesion sometimes missing from other individual
tales. “A Diamond Tale” starts off the collection and is itself perhaps
the best structured in the volume. It recounts a conversation between
the narrator and a local judge, who decries the fact that people have
been killed for the sake of the precious stone in the title. The judge
recounts stories of barbaric acts-such as when a young boy working as
a “sen sen boy” (or “sand boy”), looking through freshly dug dirt for
diamonds, rubs the sweat off of his face, only to be wrongly accused
of swallowing a diamond and murdered. The story ends in a reversal of
sorts, when the narrator announces that the judge has been poisoned
to death, after having invited the narrator to “hear a diamond tale”
by sitting in on the murder hearing at his court the following day.
The tale also includes an interesting look at middle eastern immigrants
in Africa, people the locals refer to collectively as “Syrians” (the
writer among them). They are portrayed as good people occasionally
gone bad, under the glare of the sun and the constant temptation of
riches. With the introduction of the “foreigners” into the African
context, this first story acts as a fitting beginning to the book. The
act is completed in the final story, “Washed by the Waves,” which tells
the story of an idealistic black American woman who comes to Africa
looking for peace and leaves disillusioned, never to return. The story
describes her love affair with a local official, a married man. It
also recounts the parallel, and sometimes strangely incongruous,
story of the narrator’s short-lived affair with a Scottish woman. The
tale also sounds the note of universality in the collection, of the
sameness of cultures-their loves, cruelties and disappointments-that
far outweigh their differences.
The volume’s cover art and original illustrations, drawn by Armen
Minassian and the writer’s son, Roger Kupelian, complement the volume
well and represent perhaps its most pleasant surprise. The collection
could have benefited as well from a longer introduction, placing
the stories in the writer’s larger body of work and its original
Armenian-language context. The volume currently includes a good but
brief biography that gets lost at the very back of the book.
All in all, Raymond Boghos Kupelian’s African Symphony is an
interesting look at a different diasporan existence-not the forced
exile of the immigrant but the voluntary travels of a man in search
of something greater.
Additional information about the writer and his works may be found
at
All Rights Reserved: Critics Forum, 2006
Hovig Tchalian holds a PhD in English literature from UCLA. He has
edited several journals and also published articles of his own.

‘Bonnie and Clyde’ held for spate of jewellery thefts
Kuwait Times, Kuwait
Aug. 20, 2006
KUWAIT: A source revealed that an Armenian expatriate and a Kuwaiti
woman embarked on a series of jewellery thefts. The expat and the woman
would go to jewellery shops and ask the salesman to look at chains and
bracelets. They would then put some of them in their pockets while the
salesman wasn’t looking. They would buy one item from the shop but
steal others. They stole from four shops but when they came back to
the first store, the salesman called the police. During interrogation,
they confessed that they committed a number of thefts.