Survivors

Matías Patanian is a high-profile figure in the Argentinian business community and the vice-president of one of the soccer-obsessed country’s biggest teams. “I am proud to be Armenian,” he says, adding that his April 24 birthday feels like a victory to him. With a schedule packed with work, his beloved football team, golf, family and friends, it’s easy to understand why he claims he needs a 30-hour day.

Khatcher Menakian, my maternal grandfather, was a Genocide survivor. My grandfather remained lucid and alert until his death at age 98. His body may have been tired and weak, yet his mind remained sharp and inquisitive over the years.

The Uruguayan port of Montevideo is home to the country’s Ministry of Tourism and Sports. The minister’s office is on the second floor, decorated with the majestic Uruguayan flag and many photographs, smelling of flowers and fresh ink. The minister, Liliám Kechichian, is a smiling woman of Armenian descent with expressive eyes. But behind the soft façade is an iron-cast core, a story of survival, determination and hard work that has brought her to the office she inhabits today.

Music critics call her the leading dramatic soprano of our times. Her performances sell out the world’s most prestigious venues from La Scala to the Met. Her superb vocal has garnered standing ovations from the most capricious audiences from Vienna, Zurich and Moscow to San Francisco, Tokyo and Sydney. Wherever she performs, she mentions her Armenian origin. The maiden name of the renowned opera singer Maria Guleghina is Meytarjian.

In a landmark ruling for Armenians the world over, in March 2011 an Argentinian court held that “the Turkish State committed the crime of Genocide against the Armenian people between 1915 and 1923.” It was the first time the Armenian Genocide was reviewed by a justice system as a legal issue. The ruling was a culmination of over ten years of research, court subpoenas and requests for archives from various countries. Testimony and evidence was collected and used to support a claim to “the right to the truth.”

It was my grandmother and her family who escaped the Genocide, leaving their hometown of Bitlis. My grandmother's name was Hasmik Melkumyan (Avagyan). She was born in 1913 and was the seventh child in her family.

My Armenian heritage is the core of my essence. The Armenian language gave me a chance to understand who I am, what the world is to me, why I have to survive and what God is. I used to teach at the Saint Petersburg State Theatre Arts Academy and had my own acting and directing studio there. I have a clear theory of how we should educate our people to help them succeed.

To me, my Armenian heritage means the survival and perpetuation of the Western Armenian language through my constant use and practice. I am captivated by traditional music and dance, especially of Western Armenian origin, and that is why I have become a student and performer of Armenian dance. It’s my inspiration.

What kind of person should he be, the son of Henri Verneuil, one of the godfathers of French cinema? Patrick Malakian, a filmmaker himself, has long since stopped pondering the issue. He’s been too busy riding across Europe from France to Armenia on his Harley Davidson, taking the Armenian and French flags down off the back of his motorcycle at the Turkish border.

Beirut-born and raised Ralph Yirikian has been running VivaCell-MTS, the leading telecommunications operator in Armenia, for over ten years. He came to Armenia on a six-month-long business trip but ended up staying for 14 years and counting. He believes that moving to Armenia is “the best decision” he has made in married life.