It’s a Small World After All
If anyone has ever met my grandma, more commonly referred to as “medzmama” “medz” or “madzun”, you would know that she absolutely loves taking pictures. Everywhere. Of everything. So it is no surprise that when we bought some fresh apricots and juicy toot from a local fruit vendor on Tumanyan, my grandma wanted to snap some shots.
Here we are, my two brothers, jolly old Vatche, and awkwardly tall Raffi, my giggling friend Rita, of course my sanguine Medzmama, and me, right outside of Mer Tagh restaurant, posing with a wrinkled, tired vendor and five plastic bags of fruit.
You can imagine what a spectacle this was.
All of a sudden, a random man pops into the corner of the picture, making rapid jokes that I could not understand, while chuckling at the sight. At this point, I was late for work, kind of edgy, but handling it. It turns out, this man was the owner of the restaurant, just trying to make some new friends. He also liked to brag; and I say this in the most respectful and courteous way possible. He was a charismatic guy; filled with character. We understood that he wanted to show off his importance to us as soon as an expensive car rolled up and he immediately rushed to its inhabitants and greeted them as old friends. He was speaking of his friends, the important people he knew and fed, and even showed us his album of pictures (which we would soon be a part of).
He and my grandma hit it off. At one point, he turns to her and says, in Armenian of course, “And when I met Vatche Surpazan, you know what he told me?” It was dramatic irony at its best. The expression on all of our faces made it evident that we were shocked and about to burst into laughter. Except for my grandma. She kept her cool, and even pinched my leg under the table to make sure we didn’t blow her cover. She wanted to know exactly what this “Vatche Surpazan” had said to this man. I cannot repeat what it was, because I was too busy making nonchalant yet noticeable eye contact with Vatche and Raffi, but apparently it was pretty funny. So, after he finishes ranting and raving about his old friendship with Vatche Surpazan, a huge grin overcomes Medzmama’s face. She sheepishly looks into this mans eyes and says, “You happen to be talking to Vatche Surpazan’s sister”.
Words cannot articulate the facial expression that conquered this man. It was one of doubt, shock, humor, almost embarrassment, but mostly complete and utter disbelief. It was literally hilarious. One of those priceless moments where, “you had to be there”.
After this, we became family. We took a few more pictures, shared some parting words, and went our separate ways. But I don’t think any of us will forget the bewildering and unexpected afternoon that took place on Mer Tagh restaurant’s sidewalk in the small city of Yerevan.
August 1st, 2007 at 3:41 pm
Remember when:
When Carla was not allowed into the jezzve becasue she was wearing “short shorts”
I miss you and love reading your stories. I can almost imagine your looks. Looks that only define Alene! I miss you and the triple alliance!
Stop being best friends with Rita!!!