Tuesday April 24 was Genocide Memorial Day. Although not everyone recognizes the Armenian tragedy as genocide there is no doubt in my mind that it occurred and that the international relations between
I met Alla by the metro stop and we made the long, very cold, walk to the memorial. Despite the wintry mix falling from the sky, the vast procession of those paying their respects was seemingly never ending. We bought red tulips and brought them to the center of the memorial. The mound of flowers that people had placed throughout the day was nearly as tall as me. There were funeral bouquets from countries all over the world and it was remarkable to hear people speaking in English.
We decided to go to the underground museum before walking back. As we stared at pictures of starving, naked and displaced Armenians all I could think of were the images I’ve seen of the prisoners of the WWII concentration camps. The haunting images only added to the pain of recognizing that this small country was once a powerful nation, spreading all the way to the
It was cold cold cold (hence the bright red nose to match my jacket).