Sitting on the four-hour marshrutka ride from Sasuntsi Davit metro station in Armenia’s capital Yerevan to the border town Goris, I didn’t know what to expect. Just one day earlier, refugees had started arriving from Artsakh. When we stopped at a food court in Yeghegnadzor, halfway between Goris and Yerevan, I quickly realized it was full of Artsakhtsi refugees. One asked my friend and I if we were from Artsakh as well. We replied that we were not but were on our way to Goris – not knowing what else to say in the moment to console him.

Upon arrival, I joined All for Armenia in their efforts, shopping for and distributing food, toys and essentials such as clothing and blankets at various hotels and in Goris’s main square. I also spent time with the Center for Truth and Justice collecting testimonies from individuals who witnessed war crimes. I saw the best and worst of humanity during those days. As the crowds grew, central Goris was full of thousands of people in meager conditions – some with all their belongings in several bags, some who arrived with only the clothes on their backs, and some who didn’t even bring clothes. I saw families with children sleeping in cars with nowhere to go, despite our best efforts to help. I saw the elderly weep and traumatized children not knowing how to react. I saw Goris transform, with clothing piled everywhere, garbage cans overflowing and chaos all around. I saw what seemed to be a never-ending number of ambulances and helicopters rushing to help the victims of the fuel tank explosion that took place in Stepanakert while people were trying to get out. With all this being said, the situation was handled as well as possible in an attempt to welcome more than 100,000 refugees.

The good in humanity that I saw over the week gave me hope. The eagerness with which the local Goris children volunteered captured the way the whole city chipped in to help. Everyone wanted to lend a hand, from the grocer to the hotel manager, and felt the pain of their compatriots who had just been ethnically cleansed after a 10-month blockade and brutal attack. The Artsakhtsis displayed remarkable resilience. I couldn’t help but smile seeing the grins on the children’s faces as they received a piece of chocolate or the gratitude from so many for receiving even a simple cup of tea.

There is hope, and I want to instill that same sense of hope in my Artsakhtsi compatriots who went through the unimaginable. I want them to see a future in Armenia. Yet we have a long road ahead of us. We as an Armenian collective must do better to ensure Armenia’s future. The diaspora can financially support trusted organizations, whether they are working on short-term essential needs, long-term housing and employment solutions, evidence collection or security. Every one of us must contribute in some way. Now is the time to be engaged.