armenianow.com
August 6, 2004

The Greek Connection: Descendents (if only a few) of first generation still
call Armenia home

By Vahan Ishkhanyan
ArmeniaNow reporter

During Soviet times, Hankavan was home to 120 Greek families, descendents of
the six families who founded the village in 1828. The Greeks came to Armenia
to work in gold and copper mines. At one time there were about 5,000 Greeks
throughout Soviet Armenia.
But when the mines closed in the early 20 th century, the Greeks – like the
Armenians – turned to cattle breeding.

Hankavan: The Greeks call it home
In the 1990s almost all the Greeks of Hankavan returned to Greece. Today,
after migration and immigration, the Greek community in Hankavan is only
about 15 residents.
Seventy-nine-year old Apolstle Chakhirov was among the Greek residents who,
in 1992, moved back his native country.
But, like others, Greece didn’t live up to expectations, so he came back to
Hankavan just three years later. His family convinced him to give Greece
another try. So he moved a second time. And moved back to Armenia a second
time, in 2002. He says he has no intention of moving again.
“First, I came back because this is my homeland and second, because of my
age I couldn’t find any job and it was impossible to continue my bee-keeping
in Salonica,” Apostle says.
Like most of the older generation, Apostle’s wife and three sisters also
weren’t satisfied in Greece, and came back to Hankavan. (All the women are
Greek citizens, and get pensions of about 200 Euro per month.)
Apostle is the unofficial leader of the Greek community. He is also a member
of the Armenian Communist Party, a follower of Marxism and Leninism. At the
same time he is a spiritual leader of sorts and the manager of Greek
Orthodox Church in the village. In the early 20 th century the church had a
priest, but he was shot, in 1937 during Stalin’s repressions.
As soon as Apostle came back from Greece he repaired the inner parts of the
church.
“I am both communist and believer in God. I like Christ, he was very clever
person. But when our priests say that he (Christ) will be back, I don’t
believe. He is dead and so, can’t be back,” Apostle says.

Apostle, a Marxist, makes candles for the church
He puts candles in the church which are made by him from bees-wax from his
very own bees.
“Priests’ candles are false. Things that bees create are created by God,”
the beekeeper says.
Maria, Apostle’s 83 year old sister, is the oldest resident of Hankavan.
Maria remembers when she was 15, and her father engaged her to an Armenian
boy. But she didn’t want to marry an Armenian, so her father gave permission
to marry a Greek.
When her husband died several years ago, her children took her to Greece.
“Greece is good, but it is not for me. Armenia is better,” she says. She
says she will never go to Greece again. Now her children come to see her.
Maria lives alone next to sister Natalie’s home, who also came back with her
husband to the village, leaving her children in Greece.
“Greeks in Greece are not like Armenian Greeks, we don’t like them,” says
Natalie. “In Greece we went to Armenian restaurant and our sons were crying
under the Armenian music. We will die here in Armenia; we will not go to
Greece. But here in Armenia there is nobody who cares about us: neither
telephone, nor roads . . .”
Before, there was a telephone in the village, but 10 years ago some people
cut the wires and took them. Just days ago, Natalie’s husband suffered pain
all night, but they had no possibility to take him to hospital. The next
morning, by chance, Natalie’s nephew, who was back from Greece to visit
relatives, came to the village and took him to hospital. But as of the next
day, none of them had news about Natalie’s husband.
Two years ago Donara Avgirova’s parents persuaded to come back to Hankavan
from Greece. Over the course of the two years, both parents died, leaving
her alone in the village, where she manages the hardship of poor living
conditions.

Some have come back from Greece for eternal rest in Armenia
She first lived in Yerevan, but now faces the village life of collecting
firewood, and trying to find a means to get running water in her house.
She says that when she moved to Greece, she too coerced her parents into
going. “We took them like birds in a coup,” she says. “They wanted to live
here.”
Donara has children in Greece, but says she wants to continue living in
Hankavan.
“My blood doesn’t flow in Greece,” she says. “My homeland is Armenia and we
got used to that life.”
Donara, who is in her 50s, says there are several reasons why life for her
is more comfortable in Hankavan. For example, she says that it is difficult
to establish relations. She says she wants to get married, but that in
Greece, the men “who only want to take you to bed right away.”
Language is also an obstacle for her in Greece, because her family speaks a
different dialect among themselves here, than in her native community in
Greece.
Spiridon Kerasov’s mother has returned to Hankavan, but later than she might
have wished.

Natalie came back after moving to Greece.
“Twelve years ago my four brothers and I went back to Greece and took mother
with us,” Spiridon says. “Mother asked us to let her stay in the village,
but we didn’t allow it, saying that she is an old woman and can’t stay
alone.
“We promised to bring her remains back to Hankavan if something should
happen to her in Greece.”
In 1998, six years after leaving Hankavan, the mother died.
Two weeks ago Spiridon brought his mother’s ashes back to be buried in
Armenian soil. An Armenian priest conducted the interment.
In Greece, the family had rented a grave for their mother, which had to be
vacated after six years. It was after that time that the sons remembered
their mother’s request.
Now she lies in a free grave under her portrait, and next to Spiridon’s
father. In an Armenian village the Greeks call home.
Spiridon keeps his house in Hankavan and doesn’t want to sell it, because
prices are too low. At the same time, he isn’t eager to move back to
Armenia. Unlike his compatriot Donara, Spiridon isn’t ready to make a
permanent home here.
Yes, this is our country, but this is not the right way to live,” he says.
“Who knows? Maybe one day it will be better.”