Between heaven and earth lies the majestic Mount Khustup, towering 10,500 feet and watchfully guarding the southernmost Armenian province of Syunik. Each corner of Armenia has its unique magical aura, bridging the timeless thousand-year-old ruins of fortresses and breathtaking churches to the local inhabitants on a backdrop of a vibrant landscape and colorful fruits. There
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BY RAZMIG MAKASDJIAN
When war broke out in Artsakh, I was glued to every development from my home in San Francisco. My cousin, Aram Parnagian, (a member of the AYF Manhattan “Moush” Chapter) was doing the same from his home in New York. We would talk for hours about the war during our frequent video calls. Everything else in our lives seemed irrelevant compared to the devastating attacks on Artsakh. We both felt compelled to be with our people and in our homeland during these emotional times, to do whatever we could to help them survive and stay in Artsakh.
BY RAFFI DADAIAN
Standing under the snow-covered victory tank along the Lachin-Stepanakert highway, we hear “Karabakh is Azerbaijan!” Just a few hundred yards away atop Shushi’s eastern fortress walls, stand three Azerbaijani soldiers. There is no one in sight but me and them. I stare up at them for 10 seconds and climb on top of the tank to take a picture. “Karabakh is Azerbaijan!” Again, I glance at the figures on the wall while light snow begins to fall and the low-lying clouds move in between us as they disappear in the silence.
Artsakh is in a dire state. There is no sugar-coating the situation when you are driving through the remaining mountains under “Armenian-control” dotted with Russian checkpoints. The Turkish and Azerbaijani flags set on the corners of the city of Shushi sign 10 yards from the road taunted us as we slowly worked our way through the staggered barricades of the Russian checkpoint in our Toyota Prado 4×4. “Ne govoryu po russki” (“I don