John, who was appointed a trainer for Conflict Management and Peacemaking workshop, organized for Armenian refugees, in Russian knew only a single word, the word “ti-shi-na” (silence). However, he managed to pronounce the word ‘ti-shi-na’ loudly and strictly. Usually this worked on those attendees who liked too much talking. John was young, full of life and energy. His hair resembled the color of ripe wheat and his bright blue eyes were very kind and understanding.
“Nina, ‘ti-shi-na!’ “, John used to cut in strictly. And she did remain silent, even though nothing, literally, could stop her.
Before the beginning of the workshop, coordinator has always reminded the participants to concentrate more on theoretical aspects of conflict, and to avoid politics and/or war topics! “No one should bring any real-life examples, such as Sumgait, Baku or Karabagh”, she used to repeat to them.
Yet, there always has been someone who forgot the ‘rules’, and started talking about politics and war. When it happened, coordinator, in order to stop the debate, said harshly in Armenian: “Silence!”
The moments like these have never been translated or explained to John. Yet, his intuition told him something had gone wrong. He could feel words left unspoken and hung heavily in the silence. When it happened, John turned to the one who started the conversation on war, and asked him kindly in Armenian: "Vontses?" (‘How are you doing?’). This caused loud and sincere laughter among the participants and tension in the air disappeared. Then seminar continued its usual way…
…Oksana was the exact copy of the famous Italian movie star Gina Lollobrigita. Resemblance in fact was tremendous. She was sprucing her up in front of the small mirror during the coffee-break, when she noticed Lena on her way out with the printed sheets of paper in her hands.
“Lena”, called Oksana, “If it’s your new story, then when could I read it?”
“No, it isn't my new story. It is a printout from the web about January events in Baku in 1990. And I want to show this material to someone”, - answered Lena.
Suddenly, Oksana became very pale and asked whether she could have a look at Lena’s printouts. “Interesting, is Aleksey his real name or not?”, she asked Lena in a moment.
“If you’re asking me about the author’s name, then I think “yes”, Aleksey was his real name, answered Lena. “Moreover, I think that his position at that time, the officer of SPETSNAZ, and his picture are also real. Eh, tell me, what do you think of the way he looks, isn't he handsome?”
All of a sudden, Oksana cupped her face with both hands. Then Lena heard her hollow voice: “I’ve also been saved by a Russian. We both were saved by a Russian: me and my mom. It happened when I was thrown from our forth floor balcony. Since our door was broken open I remember almost nothing. Mother told me what happened later. He burst into apartment when those assholes were going to throw my mom out and his sudden appearance stopped them. They are such cowards! Half of them were off as quickly as possible, others were hit by him.
He helped my mother to reach downstairs. They put a blanket around me, placed me in a car and took to the hospital. I've spent several months in hospital. After all what happened, we’ve reached Yerevan only in May. He helped us with almost everything one could do at that time: he brought us our documents and some of our clothes, saved, by the way, by our neighbors; and finally, he helped us to leave Baku."
Oksana took her hands off her face. It was absolutely dry, except for her huge black shining eyes. "I feel weird. Sometimes, I feel terrible memory lapse. For example, I cannot recall his name. My mother cannot recall it either. She says it starts either with “’A’ or ‘B’’…Yet, I remember quite well that he worked in the police. He was Deputy Chief of the 8th Police Department. I even don’t remember his face. But I am sure that in case someday I meet him again I will recognize him at once. I think I will feel his presence.”
Oksana's eyes now had a feverish shine in them: "Once I was awaken by a bad dream about him. I felt something terrible was happening. I felt myself so helpless; I felt being close to the nervous breakdown, I started to beat my head against the floor. I was praying, I was asking God to give everything he gave me to him – life, health - everything without any residue. My mother had to bring me then back to conscious, but now He is fine, I know it. I can feel it. Do you believe me or not?”
''Yes, I do. '', pronounced Lena.
"Why are you crying? ", - asked Oksana suddenly with her confident smile, -"give me your bag, I'll find you a handkerchief to wipe your nose".
Then she added already without any hint to joke: "Let Them mourn their "haram" city, which they profaned by themselves. Our men have taken vengeance on them for us. And the vengeance was full! "
''Yes! That is true!'', - Lena's eyes were shining again, but this time not with tears.
"Let's make some coffee. How do you want it- black or with sugar?", asked Oksana, flipping her curls. ”Half sweet, please.”
"All right, then you finish what you were up to while I make us some coffee", saying that, Oksana left the room. Straight, long-legged, she was wearing tight white pants, in accordance with the last word of the Armenian fashion. Lena took her prints and was already on her way out, then John suddenly appeared in front of her:
“Lena, vontses?”
“I am fine”, she smiled vaguely.
“A tear”, -John wiped away a tear left in the corner of her eye. “Why?”
“Ti-shi-na!”, - Lena exactly imitated John’s way of pronouncing this word. “Ti-shi-na, John!”
“OK”, -laughed John. “Ti-shi-na!”
And covered his mouth with a palm. But, his full of sadness eyes were saying that he understands everything quite well without any words. Now it was Lena’s turn to laugh.
And Oksana’s silver laugh echoed them in return.
******
translated by Angelica Harutyunian