Khorovadz, stalactites, and hanging with Tarzan

A weekend roadtrip in Armenia
by Nyree Abrahamian

We left Yerevan Saturday morning, a motley
crew of repats and diaspora Armenians – ten
friends from Toronto, New York, San Francisco,
Los Angeles, Aleppo, and Tehran – and
a driver named Tarzan. We had been planning
our trip to Tatev Monastery and Hreshdagi
Gamourj (Angel’s Bridge) for a week, which
is about as much time as we’ve ever put into
organizing one of our weekend adventures.
Still, we only had a vague idea of what the
journey ahead of us would bring.

Tatev is only about 200 km (120 miles)
southeast of Yerevan, but thanks to the
mountainous landscape and rough roads, the
ride takes four hours on a good day. We were
originally considering taking a marshrutka (a
minibus about the size of a large van – the
main mode of public transport in Armenia)
to Goris and taking taxis from there to Tatev,
but that would have been a hassle with all
our bags and a strain on our limited funds.

The day before we left, a friend recommended
Tarzan, a marshrutka driver who covers
the number-120 route in Yerevan and takes
groups on excursions out of the city for a
little extra cash on his days off. (Incidentally,
that is his real name. His parents actually
named him after the Tarzan who was apparently
all the rage in 1950s Armenia.) So for
the weekend, we had our very own rusty orange
marshrutka and private chauffeur, all for
only about $20 per person.

Tarzan’s friend Arshavir came along for the
ride. He wanted to visit his family in Shinuhayr
village, near Tatev. The two spent the
entire ride there and back taking cheap shots
at each other. It was usually the same joke;
Arshavir would say something about Tarzan
falling out of a tree and Tarzan would call Arshavir
a monkey. Perhaps not so funny now,
but we found it hilarious every time.

In typical road-trip fashion, we took way
too many breaks on the way there. Hardly
half an hour went by without us stopping for
roadside watermelons, peaches, moonshine,
gas, or bathrooms. We stopped in Goris to
pick up groceries – meat, bread, tomatoes,
and eggplant – and continued to Shinuhayr,
a village of about 400 people, where
Arshavir proudly informed us, there lived
an American. “Dagen from America lives in
my village,” he said, “Do you know him?” Of
course none of us knew the guy but we were
intrigued, so we stopped by his apartment
to see if he would join us for khorovadz at
Hreshdagi Gamourj.

“Dagen from America” turned out to be a
Nebraskan Peace Corps volunteer who had
lived in the villages of Syunik for three years.
His fluency in Armenian and in the village
dialect put us all to shame. He even taught
me some new words, like djori (mule). Never
in my life have I had to say “mule” in Armenian,
but I guess when you live in Shinuhayr,
it becomes part of your everyday vocabulary.

By the time we got to Angel's Bridge, it
was already evening and we were getting
hungry. But we also wanted to swim under
the famous Angel’s Bridge. Tarzan and Arshavir
started preparing the fire for khorovadz
and suggested that the men help them with
the barbecue while the women go to swim.
My four girlfriends and I were not at all opposed
to this idea. For once, gender stereotypes
were working in our favor and we took
full advantage.

Angel's Gamourj is a monument protected
by the World Wildlife Fund. Its natural
bridge was formed by centuries of minerals
and calcium salt sediments accumulating
along the river. We had heard stories and
seen pictures of rock formations under the
bridge, but none of them did justice to the
real beauty of the place. Once we got down to
the bottom of the gorge, it was like a different
world. The rocks were green, purple and pink.
There were stalactites hanging overhead, cool springs,
deep pools, and warm mineral waterfalls at almost every
turn. When we finally emerged on the other
side of the bridge, we felt like we had just
discovered paradise.

By the time we got back up to the top of
the gorge, the khorovadz was getting cold
and our men were getting impatient. As we
feasted, we assured them that we’d be back
tomorrow and tried to play it like they didn’t
miss much. Soon the genatses [wine tasting] started flowing
and the guys cheered up, forgetting that
they were supposed to be sulking.

Tarzan had bumped into some old friends
while barbecuing and by the time he was able
to say goodbye to them, it was already dark.
This made driving up to Tatev Village a little
tricky. Under the best circumstances, the
ride up to Tatev – carving up a steep mountain’s
edge on a dirt road with no guardrail
– keeps you on the edge of your seat. When
it’s pitch black and you’re sitting in a rickety
old marshrutka, things get a little more interesting.
We had to get out and push a few times, but eventually,
we made it up to Tatev in one piece.

The original plan was to camp out by the
monastery, but it was too dark to set up camp
and we really didn’t have the proper equipment.
At this point, I was so tired, I could
have passed out in the nearest pile of hay.
Luckily, Dagen knew a Peace Corps volunteer
in Tatev Village who was kind enough to take
us in. After a while, the sleepiness wore off
and we stayed up all night playing cards, eating
cheese, and picking up where we left off
with the genatses. (When in Armenia…)

The next morning we walked to Tatev
Monastery, one of my favorite spots in Armenia.
Perched way up high at the top of a
steep cliff, its location gives the walled complex
an intrinsic sense of spirituality. There is
something about those mountains that just
draws me in and makes me never want to
come down.

But we had made a promise to the guys,
so we eventually left the monastery and
headed back to the Angel’s Bridge. It was
just as breathtaking the second time around.
Someone commented that it was a shame we
couldn’t take our cameras down there, but I
think I like it better that way. It makes the
place and the memories all the more special.
Pictures could not have captured the experience
we shared; a group of friends from all over the world,
together discovering our homeland.

My friends back in Toronto often ask me
what life is like here and I always find it hard
to explain, but our weekend in Tatev sums it
up pretty well. You never know whom you’ll
meet, where you’ll end up, what’s under the
bridge or on the other side until you’re actually
living it. Life in Armenia is completely
and wonderfully unpredictable.
-----------------
Armenian Reporter International
July 26, 2008

"We left Yerevan Saturday morning, a motley
crew of repats and diaspora Armenians – ten
friends from Toronto, New York, San Francisco,
Los Angeles, Aleppo, and Tehran – and
a driver named Tarzan. We had been planning
our trip to Tatev Monastery and Hreshdagi
Gamourj (Angel’s Bridge) for a week, which
is about as much time as we’ve ever put into
organizing one of our weekend adventures.
Still, we only had a vague idea of what the
journey ahead of us would bring."

- that explains everything. try Mazatlan, Cozumel, Zacatecas, Villa De Santiago, Acapulco, Oaxaza now that's paradise

Tatevank is a breathtaking place!

Hello,

I just discovered that this article I wrote last year for the Armenian Reporter was posted on this site. I always like it when I find my writings picked up in different publications or websites. However, I noticed that there were several - mostly incorrect - edits, the oddest and most obvious of which is switching the name of an actual natural monument in Armenia, Sadani (Devil's) Bridge, to Hreshdagi (Angel's) Bridge.

To the person who posted/edited the piece, just curious as to why you would do that. Editing a piece that was published elsewhere - even if you think it needs it - is unfair to the author.

I'm glad you enjoyed the piece, and I look forward to your response.

-Nyree

Tatevank is just a fantastic place!! For those who have a feeling of course...

I think Angel's bridge was the original name which the Turks changed it to Devil's bridge. Now AR should restore the original name, Angel's Bridge, to that nature beauty, as when the invading Turks left that area centuries ago they took their devil with them.