Original subtitles

♪

Serj is Armenian.

Like most Armenians around the world,

he wasn't born in Armenia.

Armenia remains a dream, a subject of stories,

yet still, against all odds, a place.

♪ You, what do you own the world? ♪

♪ How do you own disorder

♪ Disorder

♪ Somewhere between the sacred silence ♪

♪ Sacred silence and sleep

♪ Disorder, disorder

♪ I took a walk

♪ Through this beautiful world ♪

♪ Felt the cool rain on my shoulder ♪

♪ Found something good in this beautiful world ♪

♪ I felt the rain getting colder ♪

♪ Sha la la la la la

♪ Sha la la la la la la

♪ Sha la la la la

♪ Sha la la la la la

Armenia is a small land-locked Christian nation

surrounded by mostly non-Christian neighbors.

Azerbaijan over there, Iran down there,

and Turkey right there.

Turkey and relations with Turkey

and the Armenian people's terrible history

with that country being the central

and defining issue of Armenian identity

and a present-day political reality

103 years after what just about anyone would call genocide.

Turkey has always adamantly denied that,

saying it was simply a messy war.

Yerevan is the capital of Armenia,

a city of about one million people.

Mount Ararat looms over it,

a cultural touchstone and a constant reminder

of what was done on the other side.

Think of Armenia, and chances are

you think instead of an Armenian,

maybe someone you know or maybe someone on TV.

These guys, for instance, famous Armenians.

We needed an Armenian.

I needed an Armenian to push me over the edge,

help me find a window,

a lens with which to look at a country

which, for some reason, I'd managed to not visit

on my travels.

Then, this guy reached out...

Serj Tankian, front man for the Armenian-American band

System of a Down.

And the whole thing started to fall into place.

Serj first visited Armenia 17 years ago.

Since then, he's performed a number of shows,

including one with System of a Down

during the centennial of the Armenian genocide.

We meet up at Dolmama,

his favorite restaurant in Yerevan,

and right away I identify a potential problem.

Well, my first question is:

I understand you're a pescatarian?

- Yeah. - How does one...

You're like, "What the fuck are you doing?"

This is a land-locked country

in the heart of, like, meat on a stick zone.

Well, I'm interested to see

how you navigate your way through this week.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, we've got amazing trout.

And lots of great veggies.

I'm just busting your balls.

Of course you are.

So how Armenian are you? I mean...

That's a really good question.

You were born in...

Yeah, I was born in Beirut, grew up in I.A.

I'm Armenian by culture. Both my parents are Armenian.

My grandparents, you know, ended up in Syria and Lebanon

because of the genocide.

And how Armenian am I?

That's a really good question, man.

The majority of Armenians that live in the Diaspora

didn't voluntarily migrate.

You know, they were... They were forced migrations,

pogroms, you know, after the genocide.

So they ended up in the Middle East and Europe

and different parts of the world.

So, we have this kind of feeling of being kicked out,

and that longing is different than other diasporas I think

because of that.

Diaspora Armenian communities,

wherever they are, have been held together

by deep feelings of nationalism

and injustice for what happened to them

and how the world refused to acknowledge it.

Dolmama specializes in modern versions

of Armenian classic dishes.

Khashlama, a braised lamb shank

served with rice pilaf.

It's a big little snack.

That is a leg of...

a leg of lamb, a little guy, yes.

Yeah.

Wow. It's pretty too.

So manti is like my grandmother used to make it,

but it looks completely different than this

because this is vegetarian manti.

They're like little boats with spices and onions.

You probably thank Genghis Khan for this.

The dumplings.

He made it happen.

He took all the manuscripts, killed a million people but...

- But he left you dumplings. - He left... yeah.

Mmm, that's awesome.

Yeah, this is what my soul needed.

Good.

What was it like coming back the first time?

And how old were you, and what was it like?

I had a mystical connection

because I had never been to Armenia.

And we had only read about it in books per se, you know.

Modern Armenia is different

than what I had thought of, you know,

because it's thriving, it's young, you know.

It's got a lot of interesting dynamics.

And I remember the first time I flew back to I.A.

the feeling that I got getting out of the plane

is "Why am I back here?"

Like, it was a weird thing where it's this...

Inescapable feeling of kind of the land

having some kind of pull

on your blood or something like that.

Genealogy, I don't know what it is.

Do you think that Armenia looks to the West for anything?

Yes, definitely.

I think, you know, culturally

Armenia is very European.

- Culturally? But... - Culturally.

Politically, it's very much tied into Russia.

Not just as an ex-Soviet republic,

but there's a lot of economic investment from Russia,

and Russia, obviously, based on the last two world wars

is extremely... what's the word...

They're very afraid of their borders, let's say.

Yes, they are acutely sensitive...

- Acutely sensitive. - To particularly this area.

There are three million Armenians living in Armenia,

another eight million around the world.

Ever since the genocide,

it's been a long, existential struggle for survival.

Recent history is defined by three major events...

A massive earthquake in 1988,

followed by the collapse of the USSR in 1991,

and then a full-scale war with Azerbaijan in 1992.

Not to mention limited employment opportunities

and most significantly its borders,

of which approximately 80% have been closed

due to relationships with its Turkish

and Azeri neighbors.

Things have not been easy for Armenians.

♪

On a hillside overlooking Yerevan sits

a sprawling memorial to the genocide of 1915.

On the other side of town, another memorial,

the Yerevan Cascade.

Richard Giragosian is an American-born professor

and political analyst who now lives here in Armenia.

How many were lost during this?

Most estimates historically

put it around 1.5 million.

That's a lot of people.

Especially a lot of people when we look at the per capita,

when we look at the impact this had.

So, what happened?

In the early 20th Century,

what was historically western Armenia

was under the control of the Ottoman Empire,

present day Turkey.

Justifying their actions by the widely held sentiment

that Christian Armenians would align themselves

with a hostile and also Christian Russia,

then undergoing its second revolution

and threatening their borders,

the Turks rounded up Armenian intellectuals

and summarily executed them.

Military and police units were dispatched to the countryside

to drive out Armenians from their villages.

They hanged local leaders in the town squares,

burned churches, destroyed manuscripts,

then marched anyone left towards the Syrian desert,

deliberately starving them along the way.

Those who survived scattered across the globe.

They formed large and vibrant communities

that survive today.

They never forgot the past

and who and what had pushed them

from their homeland.

Let's start with this: genocide.

Many people seem awfully and curiously reluctant

to use this word.

As American national foreign policy,

we use what, "catastrophe"?

Yeah, a "regrettable series of incidents."

- Yeah, how insulting. - Yes.

But, I mean, it seems to me,

just as a casual observer,

anytime a state actor or organization

makes a concerted and organized effort

to eradicate any ethnic or national group

that... that's genocide, right?

Yes, what's important though, however,

is this is our defining issue.

This is the unifying issue,

and it's probably in many ways

the only defining issue, both good and bad.

For Armenians, both Diaspora and living here?

Yes, it's the fact that, yes,

my grandfather's a survivor, every family's touched.

But it's not the personal. It's also the political.

If Turkey wasn't so adamant about denying

the historical accuracy,

this is what makes it a living issue,

a present issue.

- Going forward... - Mmm-hmm?

Do you think there will be some kind of reconciliation?

Well, I'm a little more positive.

This is now the turning point,

Armenia looking to normalize relations with Turkey

not because of the genocide but despite the genocide.

Do you have any expectation

of fruitful negotiations with Erdogan?

It seems to me that things have...

kind of taken a downward turn.

They have, but it was never supposed to be that easy

or that quick.

We also need to go beyond victimization

and to take more pride in survival.

♪

♪

Lavash, the national bread.

An ever-present feature of the Armenian table

and a part of everyday life.

Baked on a tonir,

or underground clay oven,

its preparation is passed down from generation to generation.

Markets like Gum near the city center

date back to Soviet days,

but they remain a favorite stop

for an older generation of Armenians.

October brings an array of seasonal produce,

and Miriam and her grandmother Leah

pick up ingredients for a fall tradition...

Ghapama, a rice dish baked in pumpkin.

The top of the pumpkin is removed,

and the seeds and pulp are scraped out.

Dried fruit, almonds, and honey

are mixed with rice and baked inside.

Incredible.

So, as main course we prepared Ghapama,

which has its own song.

Serj?

Usually, when you bring in the dish, you sing it.

We don't cook it very often,

but it's an autumn meal.

We have some pickles there.

We have Armenian cheese there.

And I'm going to serve Armenian bread.

And this looks like...

It looks like hummus.

- It is hummus. - That's hummus.

Hummus and bread.

And it's not Armenian.

This is mutabal.

We're not laying any claims that they're Armenian,

but many western Armenian families

grow up with this on the table as well.

Miriam, her mother, and grandmother

were all born here in Yerevan.

Her husband, Nazareth, and his family

are more typical of the diaspora Armenians.

His mom, Nar, was born in Beirut.

Nazareth, in Toronto.

What language will your children speak?

Where will they live?

- Here. - Yeah, here.

No hesitation?

That's the easy question to answer.

But I think the two of us

would like them to grow up being equally comfortable

with Armenian, Russian, and English.

All three languages are very, very important

for anyone growing up in Armenia.

They are the two largest Armenian diasporas,

Russia and America, so.

How many years was it part of the Soviet Union?

Uh, 70 years, since 1921 more or less until 1991.

So, 70 years.

But what remains of those times?

You sound... wistful about the old days.

Are things better now or worse?

When Armenia was swallowed up by the Soviet Union in 1922,

it became the Armenian Soviet Socialist Republic.

With that came purges and paranoia

but also a rapid industrialization,

the evidence of which is still seen today

in the abandoned factories and worker's blocks

of another time.

And a Soviet mentality and sizeable Russian presence

still hang over the country like a dead weight.

No matter how you felt about Soviet rule,

the transition was a rough one.

After the collapse of the USSR in 1991,

Armenia suffered terrible food shortages

and a ruined electrical grid

that allowed only a couple of hours of power a day,

if you were lucky.

The worst of those years would be 1992 to 1994.

But then a few years after '94 as well.

There was a lot of pilferage in the beginning.

There was a lot of... It was dark, dark days.

And the generation literally learned alphabet

with the candlelight.

Back then, we had only two hours maybe?

It was something to observe

because during those two hours

someone would go to the balcony

and scream in the yard:

"We have lights, the electricity is back!"

And everybody would go do their laundry,

ironing, and cooking.

Everything would be done in that one hour.

Oh yeah.

But they raised us with love,

and we would play games.

Ma would have her friends coming over playing guitar.

Looking back, I don't remember the darkness.

I remember that it was dark,

but emotionally we didn't feel that.

Parents, grandparents really did their best

for kids not to feel the darkness.

It was heroism on their part.

Especially in the winter.

Especially the winter.

But also I think we're observing

a very interesting period of our history

when change is happening.

Little by little, and it's us to make.

Right, Serj?

♪

The Tumo Center

is an after-school program for kids.

You get to pick your course of study,

be it art, technology, creative writing, whatever.

There are no grades,

no mandatory course requirements,

and upwards of 14,000 kids are enrolled

at four locations across Armenia.

It's free, an entirely non-profit,

privately funded venture,

an investment in the youth of a young country.

The main goal is

to complement their formal education.

The curriculum is not mandatory.

You pick what you want.

You can pick music,

graphic design, 3D modeling,

or programming, games,

whatever, photography, robotics.

The managing director, Maria Lou Papazian,

and her husband Pegor are two former members

of the Armenian Diaspora,

both extraordinary but not unusual

in the new Armenia.

They're not ex-pats but re-pats,

people who though not born here

have chosen to come home and help build a nation.

Well, we grew up together in Beirut

then moved to the States.

And the reason we moved

was because of the Armenian thing.

Our kid was growing up,

so we told our friends we're gonna move,

we need him to go to Armenian school.

So they said, "You're going to Armenia?"

I said, "No, Glendale, California."

But, eventually, we did move here, 12 years ago.

Living in Glendale

and keeping always saying

you have to keep your identity

was strange.

And every time coming up with stories for the kids,

you have to love your country,

you're Armenian, you have to speak Armenian.

Whereas once you're here,

you just forget all about that,

and it's more about being a good person,

having ambitions, all of that.

And the Armenian part,

you can let that happen naturally.

Apricot vodka is a good start to a meal.

Gyan is local favorite,

a restaurant operating out of what was once a private home,

something of a throwback to Soviet days

like the Cuban paladars, when private enterprise,

not to mention the spending of money on entertainment,

could be frowned on, and privacy was at a premium.

Trout wrapped and baked in lavash.

This is not light cooking.

There's certain things

about especially maybe the last 20, 30 years

of the Soviet Union, '60s on,

that not the brutal, early Bolshevik Stalinist times

but later on were, in terms of investment

and culture and education...

Well, I mean, it's very much

a legacy of the Soviet Union.

Armenia was kind of a nerd republic in a way.

They specialized in different republics,

and Armenia was where they concentrated

science, technology, particle accelerator,

radio telescope, all of that.

And so we benefitted from that,

and you see a lot of Armenians attributing that

to our "genes" and so on.

But, of course, our genes are the same as anyone else's.

It's the culture that... Right.

You know, you take the good with the bad,

and the good is we're a cerebral nation in a way.

That's how we grew up. We like chess.

We're like we're nerds.

Armenia enjoyed a somewhat celebrated status

during Soviet times,

and Russian influence is everywhere still.

Chess is taught in public schools,

a basic life skill.

It's probably the fact that Armenia was such a powerhouse

of smart, highly educated brainiacs

with strong backgrounds in engineering, math,

rocketry, and technology,

a veritable Silicon Valley of the Caucuses

that largely spared them the worst of Soviet rule,

and also perhaps the reason that it continues

to be a leader in IT.

I meet a few members from the tech community

at a local brewery in Yerevan...

Arthur, an industry writer,

Harot, a software engineer,

and Ruben, a cyber security consultant.

So what are you making?

What is coming of this?

IT is a big...

- For the country. - It's a big house.

So, websites,

web based stuff and chip design.

We're all over the place actually.

But this comes from the old times, you know.

Like, in Soviet times what happened is

they manufactured chips,

lots of electronic stuff for...

I heard for Soviet submarines.

But actually it was

a success story in the Soviet time.

You can have a success story

if you were a Communist Party official

or if you were doing science.

Or perhaps artist, and that's it.

And the science was the most clean career.

I mean, you were not compromising your own beliefs,

and you were doing something good.

If you were to imagine the perfect business

and the most efficient export for a land-locked nation

with most of its borders closed,

it would be information technology, right?

Or, to put it simply, brains.

They teach chess in school? Yes.

In school? Starting at what age?

Third grade. My son hates it, he's...

No, second grade.

- So everybody plays chess? - Yeah, you kind of...

That already is a very different...

I have a ranking actually.

Really? I didn't know. Come on.

Small number.

But that's a very different mentality than most places.

Actually, my mom took me to chess class.

It was not because of the country's

like a super nation in chess or something.

Just she wanted to take me some place

where, like, I can develop my brains.

But, actually, there's a quick answer.

When you are being oppressed

during your history,

knowledge is something that cannot be taken off you.

Anything can happen. Soviet Union can collapse.

There can be pogroms. There can be immigration.

They can take your home. They can take your fortune.

But knowledge and skill is something

that remains with you for all of the time.

And that's why Armenians are investing in education,

in knowledge, in skill,

to invest in the development of a child.

All of us are children that were invested in.

The knowledge is something that you always keep with you.

I think this explains a lot.

My trip to the disputed,

Armenian-controlled enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh

requires an early morning stop at a military base

on the outskirts of Yerevan.

And, apparently, a flight in this thing,

a smoking, flame-belching, banged-up looking

Soviet Mi-8 twin turbine chopper

whose appearance prior to boarding

does not fill me with confidence.

But, once up in the air,

it takes me over crags and peaks and steppes

across the international recognized border

with Azerbaijan

to what the Armenians call Arstakh,

an isolated pocket surrounded on all sides

by Azeris.

Whose mountains these are

is a subject of contention and conflict to say the least.

When the borders of the South Caucasus were drawn

by the Russian conquerors some 200 years ago,

a strong Russian presence kept ethnic

and religious rivalries in check.

But, whenever disorder hit Russia,

war has broken out here.

Most recently, after the fall of the USSR.

The brutal conflict went largely ignored

internationally.

As with any war,

particularly wars with an ethnic

or religious component over territory,

it was ugly, murderous,

and with atrocities committed by both sides.

1992 was a turning point.

The Armenians organized and created their own army

and, surprising everyone, pushed through

and took full control of Karabakh

and the surrounding areas.

These buffer zones are ethnically Azeri

and bitterly contested

and the subject of continuing dispute.

There are still violent confrontations,

the latest being a four-day battle

in the Spring of 2016.

Russia's role in the conflict

is suspiciously cynical.

They actively arm, support, and advise both sides

as it appears in their interest

that there be no lasting resolution.

♪

Travel to this region continues to be

a particularly sensitive issue,

especially for the Azeris.

Simply by coming here, I've become,

as I read in the papers a few days later,

officially persona non grata in Azerbaijan.

Stepanakert is the capital of the autonomous republic

of Nagorno-Karabakh.

And overlooking it, the village of Shushi.

Zhingalov Khats is a specialty of the region.

This lavash bread is stuffed with greens and onions

before being toasted atop a cast-iron sheet.

Khorovats... basically, Armenian barbecue.

Meat on a stick,

which is... let's face it... Always good.

Khorovats.

Armenians try sometimes to cook it.

Not the same thing.

Armenia and Karabakh,

two different things or the same?

Not really. Karabakh is...

definitely part of the Armenian civilization,

the Armenian culture.

I wouldn't separate them.

I think Karabakh is part of Armenia

but not part of the Republic of Armenia.

It's like a continuation of Armenia.

We are the same.

Tegran served in the military

and is now is Karabakh's only opposition party.

Tatool is a journalist.

Saro, our host, is Armenian

but born in Azerbaijan,

having fled during the war.

He now runs a guest house here in Shushi.

To what extent is this just a religious conflict?

- No, it's not really. - Not at all?

- No, no, no, no. Nothing... - No, no.

This is a Christian island.

Well, this is Christian island, it's true.

This is Christian island.

But the conflict of Nagorno-Karabakh

is not religious.

There are people here, hardliners here,

who refer to Azeris as Turks.

- But they are Turks. - They are Turks.

- They are Turks, yes. - Please explain.

I think probably they are not ident...

They do not bear historical responsibility

for the actions committed by the Ottomans.

But the struggle of the people Nagorno-Karabakh

for their existence is continuation of the struggle

of Armenian people to live peacefully on...

In their historical homeland.

I'm not saying that Azeris and Turks

are the same nations.

But they are Turk nations...

They're working in unison.

Yeah, they're working in unity today

to isolate Armenia.

Do you think there's a sense

that when people look at this conflict

they think they look back and they say

this is what could happen in the future?

Yeah, absolutely.

It is absolutely an existential conflict.

If we lose, we know that we will be destroyed.

Who will help? Who cares?

Support?

Who will support you

if things once again get ugly?

What do you think the future...

- No one, no one. We. - No one?

I think there is a clear understanding

in Armenian society

that we can only rely on ourselves.

But another reality is we are paying

very, very high price.

Since 1994, Armenian and Karabakh sides

lost about 3,000 soldiers.

We are losing our 18, 20 year old sons, you know.

This is sad reality.

And I don't know how will this situation continue.

I don't know.

I think it's the right time to drink for peace.

For peace, yeah.

You read my mind now.

So, cheers.

Cheers.

♪

It's a 3 1/2 hour train ride from the capital to Gyumri,

Armenia's second largest city.

Gyumri was at the near epicenter

of the magnitude 7.0 earthquake

that absolutely devastated much of the country in 1988,

killing 25,000 people

and displacing hundreds of thousands more.

Recovery was made more difficult

by the subsequent collapse of the Soviet Union

and the Karabakh war.

Manufacturing, infrastructure,

the country's industrial base and political stability

all crumbled along with the buildings.

The cemetery on the way into town

gives you a powerful reminder

of how many died.

One tombstone after another after another,

all dating back to the same year.

Poloz Mukuch sits on a recently rebuilt street.

Inside, I meet with three young Gyumritzi

determined to rebuild and revitalize

their city and their country.

Anush works for an equal rights NGO

back in Yerevan.

Amalia is in tech, and Gayan works in tourism.

So were you all born here?

- Yes. - Born in this city.

But two of you live here. Who doesn't live here?

I live in Yerevan.

You live in Yerevan now.

I have lived in Yerevan for four years,

and that's the beauty of my story.

Then I came back.

It doesn't matter how it was hard to suffer here.

Me, my family, my father,

we never thought to leave the city.

And that's why for me Gyumri history

is divided into two parts.

Like, before earthquake

the nice story I heard from my parents,

and after the earthquake

the difficulties and hard times we had.

But also the renaissance

that now the city is changing

because the generation is changing.

This is... This is some typical soup.

Oxtail? Oxtail soup, yeah.

It should be a little spicy.

- Good. - Yeah.

And this is liver and heart?

- Yes. - Delicious.

With tomato and oil.

This, what's this dish called?

I mean, I know what it is, it's a sheep's head but...

- Yes. - This is called "kalleh."

- "Kalleh." Kalleh. - In the local language.

When I was kid, I remember my father

not only went to restaurant with kalleh,

but he brought it home for us.

- Oh yeah? - And I was afraid.

I was afraid of the teeth. Yeah.

Actually, you got the good part there.

Yeah.

So, let me ask this.

Technology not just here but Armenia in general

seems to be the major hope for the future.

What do you think the city will be like in 20 years?

You know, the history is not a stable thing

that we can count on.

But what I see 10 years ago and 10 years now

Gyumri is developing quite fast.

It's really good. I see really good developments.

And I can say that's mostly due to the younger generation.

I would definitely say that.

It's self-employment and entrepreneurship

that is developing among the youth

very, very in a very kind of fast way these days.

Because people understand that if you stay in Gyumri

you need to create your own stuff.

We never should stop.

We never should wait for others

to help our city and ourselves.

We should think, we should create,

we should use our strong sides

to move forward.

♪

The GAZ M21 Volga

Executive Class four-door sedan.

Don't mind us. We're just Volga'ing.

The ultimate is Soviet driving luxury.

Corinthian leather, nice. Yeah.

Wonder what top speed on this thing is.

I don't want to wonder.

The decelerator isn't that great.

Right.

Only an hour's drive from the capital

sits Lake Sevan

in some beautiful countryside.

So it's the Switzerland of Armenia?

Dilijan is the Switzerland of Armenia.

It's one of my favorite spots actually.

What am I eating today?

I think you're eating khash today.

Said to be a hangover cure.

That's it, yeah.

It's made out of legs of cows, I think.

Cool, I like legs of cows.

I like their eyes.

Not to eat but just to look at.

Me too, they're so dreamy.

They are.

Yeah.

No, it's beautiful here.

♪

Cheers, thank you.

- Yeah, thanks. - They're cold.

Yeah, I'm offering it short,

but it has like I want to do it for Armenia,

for the hosts and for the khash makers.

Okay. Good.

Cheers. Cheers. Welcome.

Joining Serj and I at the table

are George, his longtime manager and friend,

Malina, the proprietor of the place,

and Sam, a restaurateur from Yerevan,

along with some friends.

Khash is what hipster goofs these days

would call bone broth,

basically a stock flavored by roasted beef bones.

In Armenian, we say "khash."

It means just boiled. Right.

So there is big debate whether it's Georgian or Armenian.

Of course, every Armenian is sure it's Armenian.

What are you talking about? What are you talking about?

Don't do the lavash first, please.

We're gonna do the...

Garlic, garlic. First comes garlic.

I see.

But pay attention to the salt.

If you are not leveling it with the right level...

Garlic level for you, it's okay?

Yeah, so garlic. So far so good.

Then, okay, you have one more plate.

You remove the meat.

Wow, this is... You take this very seriously.

- Yeah, yeah. - This is a ritual.

It's a ritual.

Does everybody have their own style?

Or is this the absolute... This is the way?

Yeah, but the classics say

you have to eat with your hands.

This is... this is the classics. You eat with your hands.

Whoever is not eating with his hands,

they are teasing him.

"Hey, you're a loser" or something like that.

- Really? - Yeah.

And you're literally judged by a person

if he's eating good khash or...

- Yeah, yeah. - Like, "See the guy?"

He's the first, see the guy.

- Harsh. That's... - See the guy.

You're like the Ayatollah of food, man.

You're very...

Ayatollah.

- Are you ready? - Yeah.

Okay, we have a saying

when we first come to a house

to a place that hosts us.

We say... [speaks Armenian]

Which literally means:

"Let my feet bring luck to this home."

So, let your feet bring luck to our country,

to Dilijan, and to this home.

I think guys with khash we do like lots of toasts,

but it has to be short.

You can go like Armenian toasts are very long.

Because people have to be concentrated on khash.

No, no, no, because it will get cold.

Yeah, yeah, we were always between Iran and Rome.

So, we're used to being between to survive.

You remember you asked the very first question,

"What is the guy who comes back to Armenia,"

"what do they feel?"

They feel "I survive."

I did what my grandfather wanted,

what his great grandfather wanted.

We are here to survive no matter is it a war.

We're gonna still have this feast.

- That's a good toast. - Yeah, badass toast.

♪