My Summer in a Pomegranate Shell

By NATHALIE KARIMIAN
Nathalieck@charter.net

Most everyone who knows me, knows that I can go on for hours about how much and why I love scouting and Homenetmen. In fact, they’ve all probably been stuck listening to me a couple of times (just ask my sister or my best friend). After twelve years of it, I figured I had gotten everything I possibly could out of scouting but I was dead wrong-- I was still missing so much.

My parents signed me up with the Homenetmen Glendale ‘Ararat’ Chapter scouts in March 1998; I was almost eight years old and I am now 20. I had no idea what they were getting me into, neither did they. Twelve years later… I can count the number of Sundays I’ve been able sleep in, can type in Armenian almost as fast as I can type in English (not that my spelling is any good), and I spent almost a month of my summer, in cloth shorts, an oversized t-shirt, voice gone, and sleeping on the floor; that’s what I was getting into.

This summer, I was granted the amazing opportunity, along with 600 or so other Armenians from all over the world, to attend the 9th Pan Homenetmen Jamboree. This jamboree happens every four years and is for all Homenetmen scouts (Homenetmen is an international organization, for those who are not familiar with it). The 2010 Jamboree took place in Armenia and was a 10-day camp in Buragan, Armenia. Before and after the camp, the representatives of many of the regions were staying in Yerevan, where we got even more time to get to know each other.

We arrived at the camp the first night, exhausted from the long plane trip, most of us with only about an hour of sleep in the past 24 hours. We had it set in our minds, “set up the tents, and go to sleep, camp doesn’t officially start until tomorrow anyway.” We finished setting up our tents as the sun set, and then it began. None of us knew what it was and all I kept hearing was “there’s a party, there’s a party, let’s go.” Confused but excited, we hurried across the campground and, sure enough, we found “a party.”

It was like an Armenian wedding, but with uglier clothes, scouting neckerchiefs, and dust everywhere from the dancing feet on the dirt. All 18 regions were there even though no one had really met yet. There was one of those giant sideways drums, a handful of dhols, non-stop earsplitting whistles, and people up on each other’s shoulders.

We ran to join in and quickly realized that there was no music, the music we thought we had heard was everybody singing together, singing songs from “Ar30not Dro]” to "Gar0n Gar0n.” On this night and for the next 10 days, this is what we did, every second we got the chance; either the camp leaders would play music for us, or we would make the music ourselves.

I can go on, telling you about Lara’s fake wedding to the Armenian from Kuwait, in the middle of nowhere when our bus broke down, or even the Lebanon inspired mock-wedding at the campfire. I can tell you about the night the Armenians from France made me crepes, or the hike where we made the Armenians from England repeatedly say “Harry Potter.” I can tell you about the Argentinean Armenian’s “Ole Ola” song, and the countless times Hayastan’s scouts talked me into eating pork (when I knew I hated it). Maybe you’d like the stories about our on-going song battles with the Eastern U.S. Armenians (which I’ll admit included Biggy versus Tupac, clearly Tupac won). Maybe a story about when the Iranian Armenian’s tents flooded? Or a story about Jerusalem, Sweden, Syria, Greece, Jordan, Australia, Canada, Bulgaria, or Holland?
Most of you have been to Armenia, and most of you have been involved in one (or many) Armenian organization(s). What many of you have not had the chance to experience is the undeniable connection among all Armenians, in your heart, and in your blood, all at one time; the very thing we as Armenians all long for when we take part in organizations, such as this newspaper.

This summer, I had an amazing opportunity, and the amazing opportunity turned out to be an unforgettable, life-changing one. We were so overcome with happiness to be together and meet our brothers and sisters for the first time, to meet our Homenetmen family.

The Jamboree is the single most eye-opening thing that many of us have experienced, both as Armenians and as individuals. I got a small taste of the thing all Armenians long for. Not only did it re-inspire my love for Homenetmen but also my love and activism as an Armenian. My friends may joke around with me because they know that I’m crazy about Homenetmen, but it’s never bothered me because I know that I have damn good reason to be.