Lyuba (Talita) is one of those women, whom I meet constantly. She works as a cleaner in Abovyan city. One can see her often cleaning our own yard. She is a mother of four. After losing the house of her husband Lyuba has lived in numerous places. The most outstanding of which, where I got acquainted with her and her family, was the “stone house” in an uninhabited field out of Abovyan city.
Let’s define a country: post-Soviet – which Armenia is; post war - like the one in Nagorno Karabakh that remains unresolved up to now; post traumatic - as after the 1915 Armenian Genocide. Developing. Provincial. In transition. Eastern. European. Small. Riddled with corruption. In love. Sad. Having fun. In a relationship with photography.
Alvin’s mother Lamaghana lives in Armenia for 8 years now. She has come to Armenia at 21 from Guinea. She confesses she cannot retell the whole story as why and how she has reached Armenia, because it’s too heavy for her. She describes it in Armenian with difficulty. “I have come to Armenia because of the conflict.
In December 1988, the devastating "Spitak Earthquake" hit the Northern part of Armenia where it killed at least 25.000 people and left half a million homeless. Particularly in Armenia's second largest city Gyumri, the number of victims is estimated to be around 15.000-17.000.
The Nagorno-Karabakh conflict is the longest war in the South Caucasus, with alternating phases of relative peace and escalation, including not only the Artsakh–Azerbaijan border, but also the administrative district of the Republic of Armenia.
There’s a place in the world I dream about every morning, where every evening I regret not being there. There’s a place in the world where, as my seven-year-old daughter says, mommy’s grandma, who is quite old, lives.
The members of the house have been silent since morning. No one is saying anything specific. It’s as though they’re all offended with each other; they don’t look in each other in the eye. The mother silently packs the suitcase. Only the twelve-year-old son can’t contain himself; he is constantly upset and gets everyone emotional. And again each one is in his own thoughts, asking himself, How did the moment to leave the country, the house arrive? The moment to get a visa and decide to seek asylum at some camp in some country? Because you have a child with a disability, and this is the only way out?
Founded in 2008, the Centaur Association of Hippotherapy and Equestrian Sports is located in the Ushi rural community of Aragatsotn marz (province), about 35 km from Yerevan. Centaur is the first and only center of its kind in Armenia, where 6 horses, 33 dogs, 4 cats, and a turtle live. All of the center’s animals were rescued from the street, negligent owners, or the slaughterhouse, and now live in a happy and safe environment.
When she got married she was still 18. The marriage was an escape from a difficult life. Her future husband had just returned Russia, from an outgoing work. Though he was much older than she, she thought she would get married, have children, she will struggle and live well. “It was really good at first; my husband treated me very well, his mother, father respected me,” the woman recounts. “But when I was four months pregnant, one day he came home drunk and hit me.
Among residential houses, parks, and cemeteries is a triplex, multi-storey, giant Soviet structure: the National Center of Oncology named after V.A. Fanarjian. Once inside, you find yourself in a classic Soviet medical institution: in cold, narrow, long corridors, where time slows down and in some places, even stops. A space where expectation becomes decisive.