As a young Armenian boy indigenous to Anatolia, I visited Vakıflı, Hatay, the last Armenian village in Turkey, with my grandfather. He encouraged me to physically connect with the architecture, language and art of my cultural heritage in a setting free of the hustle and bustle of Istanbul. Even as a child in the city, I felt strange and lacked the sense of belonging humans crave, all because I was an ethnic minority. In Vakıflı, the door was open to me not as a guest, but as family. However, even in the warmth of village life, a cool breeze hit my skin as the sun set and reminded me that our population is dwindling like an endangered species.

The sign welcoming visitors to Vakıflı village

On February 6, 2023, I felt that cool breeze again when Turkey was hit by multiple high-impact earthquakes that claimed the souls of 50,000 people and unhoused millions. My childhood memories immediately flooded me with grief, knowing that Vakıflı was in the hardest hit area. Yet this was only third-page news.

In April 2023, I visited Vakıflı again, but not for fun this time. The earthquake, which impacted southeast Turkey, also caused severe damage to Vakıflı. Even though there weren’t any lives lost, Armenians lost a lot. As generational trauma survivors whose culture is continually under threat, we must preserve it as it helps us connect with our past and roots that struggle to bear fruit. As I walked through the destroyed Vakıflı, my ancestors summoned my soul to educate fellow Armenians and the world about our ancient history, monuments and artifacts that provide valuable insight into the past. As Armenians, it is our duty to relay their stories and spread information on our vibrant heritage, allowing us to honor not only genocide victims but now earthquake victims.

The gated entrance to Surp Asdvadzadzin Church

A sign saying “Welcome to Vakıflı Village” in Armenian greeted my father and me as we entered the village. My heart warmed, and I felt like I belonged. We stopped at a nearby cafe to ask for directions to the church. The cafe owner explained where the church was with a friendly smile. When I shared my grandfather’s name, the owner immediately recognized who I was. Thankfully, this elder remembered my family and our previous visit, and made me feel as if I had never left. 

Before going to the church, we learned that there had been a meeting discussing solutions to the damage caused by the earthquake. Architects from Istanbul had come to Vakıflı to listen to the residents, assess their needs and propose an action plan for the near future. As each resident shared their story, I became profoundly affected and felt the injuries and pangs of the unhoused in Vakıflı whose population of sixty to seventy inhabitants is struggling to survive. Carrying this symbolic weight, I thought it was only proper to make my prayers at the Surp Asdvadzadzin (Holy Virgin Church).

From 1915 to 2023, we have not had a moment to catch our breath.

The space atop the Surp Asdvadzadzin Church from which the steeple toppled

Upon entering the church, just as I opened the gate, I saw the steeple of the church on the ground, broken into pieces. I turned the doorknob and went inside. The floor was a blanket of concrete, glass and dust. I could see through gaps in the walls to the outside. I didn’t know what to do. It left me speechless. Unable to comprehend the damage, I stepped outside, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, tried to articulate the injury the church and my culture sustained and realized that from 1915 to 2023, we have not had a moment to catch our breath.

Oddly enough, the following day was the anniversary of the Armenian Genocide, the 24th of April. Seeing the destruction in one of our ancestral villages reminded me that now more than ever the international Armenian community must rethink what it means to be Armenian.

The destroyed steeple of Surp Asdvadzadzin Church

After leaving Vakıflı in a mournful yet hopeful state, I am taking steps to help the community rebuild and educate others about its plight. Most importantly, I want to remind the global Armenian community that Mother Nature does not discriminate and strikes all races, ethnicities, races, religious groups and political affiliations. Collectively, we must prepare for worst-case scenarios and save our indigenous populations in areas that face natural and man-made threats. Our survival depends on it.