![]() How does one own a mountain? Especially one of (literally) such biblical proportions? The mountain is a mountain and doesn’t recognize ownership. Once upon a time, Ararat, where Noah’s Ark filled with two of every animal on earth purportedly landed, was in Armenia. When understanding this emotion, we may know how to manage it. Mount Ararat, taken by the Turkish government, is on Vahe’s list of places to climb I write about places I’ve never been. My own longing for home can’t be completely translated yet. Vahe looks for that feeling on the mountain. My brother and I both look for a sense of home. *** Nonetheless, it creates a feeling that taps into your emotions. Our grandmother named him after the son she lost-two Vahes living opposite trajectories, opposite lines of fate, a space of two years in between them. My brother was born after me, ginger-haired and to everyone’s delight, a boy-a reincarnation. When our father arrived in San Francisco, it was a day of grief and joy: the day before my mother went into labor. Our young uncle died the year I was born. The rest of his family moved there after treatment for our young uncle in Argentina became exhausted.īy the Welsh people, they use the word hiraeth to describe a sense of admiration or nostalgia for the way that their country once was. Our father: “The minute I saw her I told my friend that she would become my wife.”ĭespite our father’s prediction, years would pass and my mother’s mother would berate him: “When are you going to marry my daughter?” Our father sent our mother to San Francisco first. Our mother: “He drove by in his flashy car and asked if I needed a ride. Our father opened a handbag store in downtown Cordoba where my mother eventually worked. His younger brother, mother, and father were in Argentina seeking treatment for his younger brother’s failing kidneys. Our father moved from Turkey to Argentina to be closer to the rest of his family. It is associated with the bittersweet memory of missing something or someone, while being grateful of that/their existence. I’d never call any Armenian, “Turkish.” The irony is that the words are forever linked together by past events in a contentious dance. Our father was Bolsahye-Turkish-Armenian-although I always say he is, Armenian, born-in-Turkey, an important clarification. Along with our mixed Armenian and Argentinian genes. We’ve both lost our father to lung cancer, this we have in common. Hiraeth implies the meaning of missing a time, an era, or a person, including homesickness for what may not exist any longer. He’s able to look over the horizon, above thick white clouds, then leave all his troubles in the sky. I imagine the future is clear at the peak. Climbing is about conquering, a hard-won victory over difficulties. “One mountain a year and then the tallest on my 50th,” he says. 'Hiraeth' is a word, which cannot be completely translated, meaning more than solely 'missing something' or 'missing home.'
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