I Go Deep Into The Well

This is an excerpt from my trip to Khor Virap when I was in Armenia in 2007:

Today, I went to Khor Virap with another pal, Michael, from Germany. I've told you how I've had a hard time with people staring. I'm really getting over it and while I notice it, I don't much care anymore. And traveling with Michael - well, he's about 7 feet tall so you can imagine the looks. But folks are just wonderful to us. While we were waiting for the marshrutka to fill, the driver bought us coffee and a military officer wrote down the times of the return marshrutkas on a napkin and everyone made sure we understood about the times and where the marshrutkas picked us up.

Khor Virap means deep well. St. Gregory the Illuminator (Krikor Lusavorich) was tortured and imprisoned at the bottom of this well for 13 years by King Trdat III. In 301, the king suffered from some weird sickness (some legends say he sprouted a boar's head) and St. Gregory cured him. The King was so grateful that he adopted Christianity at the country's official religion making Armenia the first Christian nation. The well now has a building over the top but I went down into the well. The ladder would never pass OSHA standards although I felt really safe because the passage down was so narrow, I could wedge my back against the back wall. Kind of like rock climbing. The well is about 12 feet in diameter and doesn't look like a fun place to call home.

The day was gorgeous and we were very close to Ararat. In the picture, behind me you may see a fence. Beyond the fence about one-half mile is the Arax River. On the other side (including Ararat) is Turkey. Kind of creepy although it's such beautiful country.
After Khor Virap, Michael and I walked through a vast cemetary. Many of the stones are engraved with eerily like-like portraits of the people. I did find a Mooradian gravesite there but no Markarian or Kouzoujians. But we also only saw about a tenth of it.

Michael and I wandered back to the main road to wait for the autobus - we had a 45 minute wait. I car stopped and asked if we wanted a ride. The driver was a man named Mikhail Tsanturian and he was with his son. He ended up driving us into Yerevan (we bought extra gas for him) and we swore undying friendship and he invited us to come to his village of Lasarat in September when the grapes are harvested and wine and vinegar are made.

So right now I am very much at peace and contentment. I still want to get home to my family but the richness of Armenian life is very present in my thoughts. I still get stared at, I still struggle with the language and I am tired of traveling. But I am so glad I've stayed three weeks - it's helped me to relax, be patient and drink it all in.