Russian Reality and Armenian Holidays

Most of Gayane Safronova’s (Hovhannisyan) life was spent in Russia, but her warmest memories are of her childhood — the one spent in the First Massiv (a district in Yerevan) and in a village in Jermuk: “I was born in Yerevan, and when I was one year old, my parents moved to Moscow. They went through difficult years, like everyone who relocated from Armenia to Russia in the 1990s. But even during those hard times, my sister and I had amazing summer vacations: we would come to Yerevan and spend two weeks in the capital, and then almost three months with our grandmother in a village in Jermuk. It was a wonderful childhood filled with games and other children. We had cows, and our favorites were named Siranush and Sevuk.”

During the summer months, the sisters missed their parents, so returning to Russia after the holidays was pleasant, yet the life young girls had to face made them sad and worried: bullying based on nationality was very common in Russian schools in those years. In search of alternatives, Gayane transferred to the “Intellektual” school, after which she entered the Moscow Medical University. Although there were many Armenians and people from the Caucasus there, she still didn’t integrate into their community — even among her own, she felt like an outsider.

“I studied and worked a lot during those years: from my third year I worked in pediatric intensive care and stayed there until the very end, until my move to Armenia. After graduation, I entered residency and started working at the Morozov Children’s Hospital. At the same time — a private clinic, family, a small child. Everything seemed to follow its course, and I never thought about how or why I lived,” Gayane recalls.
 

Humanity Crisis: Moving to Armenia

In 2022, the heroine moved to Yerevan with her family. Now she asks herself much more often how and why she lives. A big city dictates its own pace: you are in a constant race, and if you slow down, there is no place for you under the sun. This unspoken rule seems especially common among migrants who must work harder and try more to earn their place: “Moving to Yerevan made me reflect more on this question, and it’s not only about the size of the city, but also about its essence. I walk my child to the bus and realize that I know everyone I meet on the way. I know the old man who walks his dog every morning, and I know the shopkeeper. These people are what make up the city. People here have a completely different mindset. The mood of Moscow is indifference. Of course, there are downsides everywhere, but I can’t imagine a situation in Yerevan that involves such indifference.”

Gayane admits that the main reason for moving to Armenia was a crisis of humanity that began for her in Russia against the backdrop of the war with Ukraine: she chose the profession of pediatrician based on this very value. Every day she spent in Russia after the start of the war felt like a betrayal of herself. Yerevan became the place where she could continue doing her work — healing and saving lives — while staying true to her values: “This situation taught me that life is short and you never know what will happen tomorrow. You can assume and dream, but you can’t know for sure. So if you feel that your place is somewhere, that the people you love are there, then you should go there. Yerevan is that place now. I feel good here, and I’m not saying it’s the most perfect place on earth, but one must follow their principles. If you can be useful somewhere, and I feel that I am useful here, then you should take that opportunity. I want to follow my mission, and it is here now, in Yerevan.”

An Armenian Mother – For Armenian Mothers

Gayane currently works at the evidence-based medicine clinic “Chaika”, opened by a team of doctors who relocated from Russia. The heroine is happy both about the opportunity to work at the clinic and about its opening in Armenia in general, as she believes there are serious issues in the communication between doctor and patient here: patients often do not understand why a certain treatment is prescribed. “Chaika” promotes a partnership model of doctor-patient relationships.

Frequent interaction with Armenian mothers has revealed another side of Armenian reality: society places very high expectations on mothers, and they are alone on this “battlefield.” Accustomed to her own mother’s help, Gayane suddenly realized how difficult it is alone, with no place to take the child. In Armenia, mothers have to manage everything — a tidy home, a well-fed child, and also look perfect: “On top of all that, she has to please everyone. And where is she in all this? Where is she? I have a special love for women, for mothers — whether they already are mothers or future ones. With the creation of a family, a woman’s personal development often ends here. Yes, some have help from their mothers, but most raise children without that support. And this is how the idea of opening a center was born — a place where mothers can bring their children and have time for themselves.”

The Activities of “Charachichi”

“Charachichi” was created in parallel with Gayane’s second pregnancy. She viewed it through the eyes of both a pediatrician and a mother. As a doctor, she knew children need movement, space, and safety. This is a project for both children and parents, providing quality leisure for kids while giving mothers the chance to care for themselves or simply rest in a designated area. In this space, children are engaged and developed through imaginative play; there are sensory and active zones where they can jump, run, and spend time actively. Everything is made from safe materials, primarily wood.

“The love for children in Armenia often manifests as giving them candy, feeding and overfeeding them — I see this as a doctor too. But people here are not used to thinking about quality time for children; that culture is simply absent. A child is expected to be under the supervision of a mother or grandparents. Otherwise, it’s noisy entertainment centers, which are not what a small child truly needs. Often, quality leisure is replaced by tablets and phones, whereas the caregivers at ‘Charachichi’ not only ensure children’s safety but also play developmental games with them,” Gayane says. She believes the problem lies in the lack of freedom to raise a child through interaction with the surrounding environment. She hopes that as Armenia undergoes rapid changes, the situation in this area will also improve. For now, “Charachichi” is mostly attended by mothers from Russia, the USA, or local mothers who once studied abroad.

Living Where You Are Needed
Gayane is happy with life in Armenia, which gives her and everyone else freedom — the freedom to have an idea and bring it to life. She appreciates the openness and sense of responsibility among people: “I look at my son and see how free he is growing up. I never felt that way in Russia, but here children feel accepted, and in 20 years there will be a completely different generation — versatile and brave.

It’s also important to live where you feel needed. The most valuable thing is human life, and we only get one. A person should live it happily. If that happiness is in Armenia, that’s good; if in another country, that’s also good. If you feel good in Armenia, be sure that it will give you many opportunities to realize your ideas.”

By Nare Bedjanyan