Armenia - A Dinner of Endless Toasts

I wrote a few days earlier about having dinner with my family in Armenia. It was truly an amazing experience. No really, it was an EXPERIENCE! My uncle almost burned all his hair off whilst preparing a huge fire for the "khorovadz" (BBQ). There was enough food to feed a small army (probably not necessary to state, but the food was DELICIOUS). And the company was the best.


A tradition at these feasts is for the hosts to make a toast. Sounds like any other dinner get together, right? Well, let me be clear. The host does not make a toast, as in singular. No, no, the host makes a SERIES of toasts, as in plural. I didn't realize it after the first toast, but over the course of the next hour and half, there would be another 12-13 toasts. By the end, every human, living and dead, that any of us possibly had a connection with was toasted. Every possible exam, life experience, challenge and adventure was toasted for good luck. Indeed, any and every person, animal, machine, object, environment, etc etc etc that could affect our lives was toasted to be positive.

I'm not much of a drinker - so, after I realized what was happening, I would bring the glass to my lips and not drink any of the VODKA that was being copiously refilled in others' cups. Around toast number 8, my uncle started suspecting something, but at that point, being that he was around 16 very large shots of Vodka in, he didn't make the connection, so I stayed in the clear!

I love Armenia - mostly for the people. I love that most people recognize me as an Armenian, but just know I'm not from Armenia. I love that perfect strangers will stare at me shamelessly if I walk around in shorts and flip-flops. But most of all, I love that family who know me fleetingly, welcome me into their home with widely spread arms, bountifully filled tables, and enough toasts to create a memory for a lifetime.

Yerevan in foreground; Biblical Mt. Ararat in background

Until my next visit, Armenia! I will miss thee!