Life-Giving Stories, Fermented Memories
Aylin Vartanyan
What I remember most vividly about my grandma Koharig is her restlessness and her extraordinary talent for preparing food. She could bring together whatever was available at home and make a delicious meal. She gave meaning to her life by constantly cooking and feeding her loved ones (sometimes forcefully). Maybe that was her way of telling the family stories she couldn't put into words. Ursula K. Le Guin, in her essay The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction, opened a critical window onto the notion of the hero in literature. Instead of heroic narratives that often devolve into destructive power over time, she proposed carrier narratives. She reminded us that the first cultural tool wasn’t a weapon for killing, but a bag used to carry and preserve. This view, supported by anthropologist Elizabeth Fisher, places survival, nourishment, and transformation at the center of narrative.
The Safety of Being Unseen
Lerna Babikyan
My paternal grandfather Istepan survived 1915 in Tokat-Erbaa with the help of some young female relatives and neighbours. Disguised in girls’ clothing and with mud smeared on his face, he was saved thanks to the words “Don’t take that one, she’s ugly.” He became the only surviving member of his six-sibling family at the age of seven. My maternal grandfather Sarkis was born into a family of basket weavers and farmers in Sinop-Gerze. He grew up without learning Armenian, underlined with the importance of hiding his identity. When I asked him about his memories, he would at first hesitate, then recall the beauty of his village’s nature, and eventually recount uncomfortable stories.
Waiting
Susan Arpajian Jolley
In this week's column, we are featuring the article of Susan Arpajian Jolley from the USA about her grandmother. Parrhesia Collective has been discussing the role of our grandmothers, in our monthly Kov Kovi meetings for some time. Following the articles of our members in the previous weeks, we are honored to receive an article from Susan Arpajian Jolley, that we would like to share with Agos readers. The English original of the article you can read online. As Collective, we would like to thank Susan Arpajian Jolley for sharing her grandmother’s story with us.
From Konya Ereğli to Istanbul: My Grandmother’s Story
Dença Değirmenci
Her story in Ereğli ended when she got married at the age of 17 and moved to Istanbul with my grandfather. At that time, Armenian families would marry off their daughters at a young age to Armenian men to protect them. That’s how my grandmother got married and came to Istanbul for the first time—for her own wedding.
A Violin, A Marriage, and a Century-Long Life
Tamar Gürciyan
For me, this violin is a memory of lives trapped between two worlds, of a woman who struggled to adapt to a new life while carrying the weight of the past, and of my elders, who, despite everything, survived, lived, and loved life. With this exhibition, as I bring to light photographs and the violin hidden under the bed, I hope to uncover the pains, losses, and forgotten stories of the past—while moving closer to hope.