The last time I went to Armenia, I was four years old. My mother and I went for the summer and had the time of our lives. But I don’t really remember much about it. 

So when I went to Armenia this year again with my family, it felt like it was my first time going. I was hesitant about it; I wanted to go, but at the same time, I didn’t. I just knew I was going to miss home, and I had never been out of Glendale for more than three weeks at a time, so this was a very new experience for me.

When our plane finally landed in Zvartnots, Armenia, I looked out the window, but I didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t excited, like my family members were. My mother was crying, as she hadn’t been home in thirteen years. But for me, I just sat there, wanting to go back to Glendale. 

At the airport, we were greeted by family and friends. It should have been a joyous occasion, but I just wanted to come back to America. Without giving Armenia a chance, I yearned for home. That night, I couldn’t sleep at all, but it was mostly because I was jet-lagged. 

During our trip, we went out every day with different people. Seeing Armenians all around me, I felt so connected to all of them, even though I didn’t know them. They were so nice to everyone, greeting everyone they saw, sparking a conversation about anything. I loved seeing them sitting in little gazebos and playing board games. They were all just so close together. Even in hard times, everyone loved each other. 

Days went by, and my vacation took a turn for the worse. There was no normal A/C working, with no cold drinks, and I didn’t really eat half the food I was offered. I really wanted to go home again. A few more days went by, and I was still kind of tired and didn’t really want to stay any longer. 

But then we visited a bunch of beautiful places like Tatev, Jermuk, and Ejmiacin. We visited many beautiful churches, waterfalls falls and fields of flowers. While visiting those places, I was starting to feel at one with Armenia, realizing I didn’t want to leave. 

We spent a lot of days with cousins that I had never met. They made my trip even better a

nd more fun, and we saw more amazing sights. It was the best, and they made our time there worth it. 

When it was finally time to leave, we said all our goodbyes to our family members, people we can’t see very often. My cousins and family friends came to the airport to send us off. We hugged everyone with tears in our eyes and walked away to check in to our flight home. The moment I sat on the plane, I started crying, realizing I wouldn’t be able to come home for a while. I didn’t want to leave. 

I felt so connected to all of the people and the places I saw, but I never thought I’d cry when leaving. My sisters kept telling me from the beginning of the trip that I wouldn’t want to leave, but I didn’t believe them. 

But as I sat on that plane and watched my beautiful Armenia go further and further away from my sight, it made me feel so sick. It felt like getting ripped apart from something very special to me. 

A piece of my soul is still in Armenia waiting for me to go back.