Earlier today, I ‘chatted’ with an Armenian in Beirut on Facebook. His family (like my grandfather’s family) was from Marash. Several months ago, I discovered a Facebook page with Marashtzi Canadian Armenians sharing pictures of their summer picnic. Last summer, I met an Israeli-born Armenian woman while I was visiting Jerusalem and learned that her family was also from Marash. Here, in New York City, many Armenian families are the children and grandchildren of genocide survivors from Marash. In fact, the husband of my Armenian grocer (Yaranush) is also Marashtzi.
These are just a few examples of how Armenians from one town decimated by the Ottoman Turks built their lives in the cities where they were welcomed all over the world. And now, through the Internet, we are finding one another. I wish our grandparents could be alive to know their children are rebuilding Marash—and Van, Sepastia, Aintab, Kayseri, Constantinople, Everek, Harpoot, Zeitun, Diyarbekir, Urfa, Sivas—in their hearts and here online.