Catherine Yesayan
BY CATHERINE YESAYAN
When I was criss-crossing Armenia in 2012 with a group, our tour guide mentioned that recently a suspended bridge had been built in a village called Khndzoresk.
We didn’t pay much attention to that piece of information. We cared less to see a newly built bridge. We were interested in exploring things with connection to the history. However within the next few years I heard more about the bridge. Friends visited Khndzoresk and raved about the Indiana Jones-esque suspended bridge. This year I planned to stay in city of Goris for a week to catch up with my writing and also visit the bridge which is in the outskirts of the city.
Khatchik, the proprietor of the B&B where I was staying, suggested before I visit the bridge that I meet a historian of Khndzoresk village where the bridge is located.
In small towns of Armenia, everybody knows everybody. The taxi drove me from Goris to Khndzoresk, a ten minute drive. Without a prior phone call or an arrangement, we arrived at the door of Arkady Dzadourian, the so-called historian, who lived in a two story home. The driver knocked at their door and told them that a woman wanted to have an interview with Arkady. He accepted to meet with me.
His son guided me upstairs to their living room. I introduced myself to Arkady as a journalist who wanted to learn about the history of Khndzoresk. He gave me a warm welcome with a big smile. He told me that he’s been a school principal and he has published a few historical books.
We sat around the coffee table and his granddaughter served us Armenian coffee, cookies and fruit. Like any other Armenian home, the living room was furnished with a poor imitation of Queen Ann style bulky sofas and armchairs.
The word Khndzoresk is derived from the native dialect meaning “deep gorge.â€
