Mesrob

Stone quarries threaten Ani ruins in Kars -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ankara University Armenian Turk Relations Investigation Center manager assistant professor Erol Kurkcuoglu said, "UNESCO and all of the world environmental organizations must pay attention to the Armenian's behaviour." Dynamite used in stone quarries in Armenia are causing harm to the ruins of Ani and other historical locations in Kars. Georgian, Armenian and Turkish historical treasures and many others on the Turkish-Armenian border are being harmed by the stone quarries which opened between 2000-2001 just 100 meters away from the border. Kurkcuoglu said the Armenian's attitude shows that they are not considering the possibility of destroying historical treasures. UNESCO has to take this attitude into account and launch an initiative to stop the operation of these quarries, he added. The aim of the Armenian's seems to be to put Turkey into difficult situations in the future. Following this destruction, Turkey will be accused of misinterpreting the Armenian's actions in the international arena, as they did with the so-called genocide. They are expert at accusing Turkey for everything they did, said Kurkcuoglu. Would there be the same silence if Turkey had done it? Ataturk University's science and literature faculty history department chair professor Enver Konukcu said that if Turkey had done it in such a close area to the historical treasures, it would alarm the whole world. These treasures do not just belong to the Turkish people, they should also be saved by other nations.

France's Pernod puts post-Soviet Armenia's economic climate to test in fight over brandy By ANGELA CHARLTON The Associated Press 7/8/01 2:02 PM YEREVAN, Armenia (AP) -- From neighboring hilltops overlooking Armenia's capital, two distilleries are dueling over a biblical brand name and this desperately poor nation's biggest export: brandy. One distillery is run by a fastidious French executive, the other by a flamboyant Armenian magnate. Both sell brandies called Ararat, after the mountain where Noah's Ark came to rest and where legend says Noah planted the grapes that began Armenia's winemaking tradition. The struggle over the tawny, aromatic brandy could help determine the direction of Armenia's economic future, signaling whether it is warming to foreign investors or clinging to the cronyism and protectionism of its Soviet-ruled era. From his roomy corner office at the Yerevan Brandy Co., Pierre Larretche presides over monthly production of 250,000 bottles of golden liquor. Fountains trickle softly on the distillery's tidy grounds, and the air is, well, intoxicating. Yet behind this pleasant facade, Larretche has grappled with patent disputes, street protests and officials resistant to foreigners taking a piece of Armenia's proud brandy heritage. French beverage giant Pernod Ricard bought the company in 1998 in a $30 million privatization deal -- a big investment in this landlocked, Maryland-sized nation of 3 million people, 80 percent of whom live on less than $25 a month. Armenian factories have closed or slashed production during the past decade, which saw Soviet-era infrastructure crumble and a war with neighboring Azerbaijan drain resources. Economic reforms have lagged. Armenia has gotten $1.4 billion in U.S. aid, but little investment from the huge Armenian diaspora, which fears corruption and economic uncertainty. Foreign business leaders in Yerevan warn that Pernod's experience is scaring away other investors and dooming the country to deeper poverty. "The environment was not very good. It was hard for certain politicians to accept us," Larretche said. "We had to fight to get here." Thousands of Armenians staged anti-Pernod protests, claiming a national asset was being sold off cheap. Talks on a price dragged on for months. Then, as Larretche was settling in to his new job, a tough competitor emerged: the Great Valley Co., which in 1999 resuscitated the near-defunct distillery on the next hill and reportedly enjoys close ties to the Armenian political elite. In Soviet times, both factories were part of the state-run company Ararat, which split up with Armenia's independence in 1991. Now both claim the company's 114-year-old history, its recipes and the Ararat name. Great Valley insists the industry needs competition to stimulate growth. And its director, Tigran Arzakantsian, touts himself as a national hero for investing in his homeland. Arzakantsian, 35, earned his fortune as a professional boxer and liquor baron, and has homes in Monaco and Russia. "I wanted the money to be of use to Armenia," said Arzakantsian, perched in his office at a table laden with melon, grapes and three kinds of brandy. His conversation was interrupted by a cell phone call from a vice prime minister. Since production began in the late 19th century, brandy has become the national beverage, shared over grilled lamb picnics, honeyed desserts and breakfast coffee. Here and throughout the former Soviet Union it is known as "konyak." The Soviets nationalized the distilleries, and Josef Stalin forbade exports to the West. But he gave Winston Churchill a bottle of 10-year-old, 100-proof Armenian "konyak" in 1943, and it reputedly became the British leader's favorite drink. Russia accounts for 70 percent of Yerevan Brandy's sales and 90 percent of Great Valley's, but its 1998 financial crisis shriveled sales just as Larretche took over Yerevan Brandy. Since then he has ratcheted up sales, which rose 183 percent in the first four months of this year, compared to 2000. But Great Valley is growing, too. Last year Arzakantsian claimed production of 3 million bottles. Yerevan Brandy churned out 1.7 million, well below the 4 million of 1996. As for the Arafat name and recipes, Pernod says the privatization deal gave it exclusivity, but it took years of court battles to stop three Russian distilleries from producing Ararat brandy. Pernod, the world's fifth-largest wine and spirits producer, had less luck fighting Great Valley's flagship brand, Great Ararat. The French management complained to government officials of lax enforcement of patent regulations -- a problem many businesses here have lamented -- to no avail. Last September, an Armenian court barred Great Valley from using the Ararat name on its three-star brandies. Pernod lawyers called it a half-victory, saying the ruling left loopholes. It took effect in March, and Larretche said it's too early to judge the results. Larretche is reserved in his criticism of Great Valley, but other Yerevan Brandy employees, speaking on condition of anonymity, accuse Arzakantsian of pilfering their recipes and bribing government officials for the gentle court ruling. Arzakantsian is reticent about the provenance of his recipes, but strongly denies offering bribes. He insists he is doing well because he understands his market better than Pernod. "They want a monopoly," Arzakantsian said. "That's not realistic." Larretche denies that: "We didn't come here to have exclusivity." His company made a $1 million profit last year on Pernod's $50 million investment so far. Some $20 million of that came from the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development, whose president, Jean Lemierre, urged Armenia's government to strengthen the legal and regulatory system, "because this is fundamental to doing business in Armenia." Pernod has installed Italian bottling equipment in the Yerevan production hall and is gradually replacing dented metal casks with new oak barrels. Walking among those casks, Bagrat Palian, a storage supervisor at Yerevan Brandy under Soviet, Armenian and now French management, said he hopes things end peacefully. "It is not important who is in control, the French or the Armenians," he said. "It's important that they respect the konyak."

Most travelers that came back from the diocesan trip through Turkey were unable to find the villages their elders came from. The local population wasn't particularly helpful unless you were lucky enough to find an old timer that still remembers. I worry that unless we can get them documented the cloud of time will erode all memory.

LSJ NewsXtra Entertainment Classifieds MSU Sports Escapes Local News National News Tech News Business News Monday, July 9, 2001 Police badge waits at end of long, hard road Woman overcomes war, looks forward to entering academy By Katie Matvias Lansing State Journal After fleeing war-torn Armenia, learning a new language and finishing her associate's degree at Lansing Community College, Oksana Mkrtychyan is confident she can graduate from the rigorous police academy. "It's six miles a day for 15 weeks," she said, laughing. "I'm just going to keep going." It's been about seven years since she and her family fled Armenia. She says her dream to become a police officer has kept her going. "I feel like I'm floating," the 21-year-old said. "I got an e-mail saying there was a green light for me to go to the academy. I printed it out and I'm going to frame it." She starts at the Mid-Michigan Police Academy on July 30, and upon graduation she will work for the Lansing Police Department. She has been a police cadet for two years. In 1988, when Mkrtychyan was only 8 years old, Muslim leaders forced her family to leave Azerbaijan and move to neighboring Armenia, a predominantly Christian nation. In Armenia, her father was a baker and the family owned a restaurant. Her family was forced to move into a rat-infested basement when, during the country's conflict with Azerbaijan, bombs destroyed their home. Underground they were safe. The Mkrtychyans lived there for two years. "In one day it was like World War II - there was army everywhere," she said. Most men were sent to fight but her father was the town baker - the only person there to make bread - so he was allowed to stay, she said. "We're pretty much the only family who didn't lose someone," she said. "The men either killed themselves because they didn't want to fight or they just never came back." Then one day they were walking by their ruined house when a mailman, with a package from the United States, found them, she said. He'd searched for the family for days and was about to send the package back to America. An uncle who lived in Michigan had been working on getting the family to the United States. The package was a request to come to Moscow to start the process. "My mother had to sell her jewelry to buy the plane tickets to go," she said. "We lived there in a hotel for about eight months. When we came here we had one bag of clothes and a $1 bill." Mkrtychyan and her older brother Artur - who's now 23 - were enrolled at Eastern High School as soon as the family settled in. They couldn't speak English. "It's a terrible thing to be alone," she said. "I couldn't go to prom or participate in school activities because I never felt like I belonged." But she fought the urge to quit, learned English in about a year and graduated from high school on time. In high school she worked at a nearby dollar store where she said she spent most of the day looking at the merchandise trying to learn the language. Helen Cirrito of Lansing helps Armenian immigrants who settle in the city. She helped enroll Oksana and Artur in school and helped her parents, Vladimir and Susanna, with appointments. Her brother now works for Commercial Blueprint Inc. Her father is a baker and her mother works for Meijer Inc. Cirrito, who's of Armenian descent, is a board member of the nonprofit Armenian Resettlement and Refugee Assistance Trust Fund. The trust was set up to help families buy cars and other necessities after they move to the Lansing area. "For any immigrant it's very difficult but because they came from a war area they saw a lot," Cirrito said. "All of the opportunities were here and it was up to her to go for them. "Oksana is one of the ones who worked very hard." It's her strong work ethic that showed Lansing police Lt. Raymond Hall she was ready for the academy. Hall was her supervisor in the central services office downtown. "She's been one of the more focused cadets to come through in quite a while," Hall said. "She gets the job done, she offers no excuses and she delivers. If she remains as focused and determined as she is today, her chances to complete the academy are good." Contact Katie Matvias at 267-1301 or kmatvias@lsj.com.

Thorny in all sincerity - Are you a wannabe? If you want to respond in inuendos, than just forget it.

I must say that the one doing the finger pointing just might get his finger bitten off. I don't particularly like Mesrob II the patriarch of Turkey or Cathlicos Aram of Antelias or Tiran Srpazan the former head of the Armenians in Russia. In my opinion thse high and mighty individuals are the ones sowing decension in the Armenian Church. If there is a reporter available they are more than happy to do their whining.

Although I am not politically motivatd in Armenian politics, for once I must agree with a member of the Tashnag Party that has come out against abolishing the death penalty. The murderers on Oct 27 in Parliament are guilty of crimes against the Republic and its people. They should pay the ultimate price.

I have often looked for older Turkish maps showing the villages with Armenian names. I know that most of these maps exist in Yerevan in the archives. Does anyone know how to get copies of them? I always wonder why with all that information available, it can't become a source of income to the Republic? For myself it required a personal trip and with the help of Armenian students I finally found what I was looking for. Such a rich source of information and it isn't bring utilized.

Is there any repository in the new world that cross references The original name of Turkish cities before the genocide? I just wonder that a city of 5000 Armenians doesn't appear on the map anymore.