All language subtitles for Anthony Bourdain Parts Unknown S11E04 Armenia (1080p x265 10bit Joy)

♪

Serj is Armenian.

Like most Armenians
around the world,

he wasn't born in Armenia.

Armenia remains a dream,
a subject of stories,

yet still, against all odds,
a place.

♪ You, what do you
own the world? ♪

♪ How do you own disorder

♪ Disorder

♪ Somewhere between
the sacred silence ♪

♪ Sacred silence and sleep

♪ Disorder, disorder

♪ I took a walk

♪ Through
this beautiful world ♪

♪ Felt the cool rain
on my shoulder ♪

♪ Found something good
in this beautiful world ♪

♪ I felt the rain
getting colder ♪

♪ Sha la la la la la

♪ Sha la la la la la la

♪ Sha la la la la

♪ Sha la la la la la

Armenia is a small
land-locked Christian nation

surrounded by mostly
non-Christian neighbors.

Azerbaijan over there,
Iran down there,

and Turkey right there.

Turkey and relations with Turkey

and the Armenian people's
terrible history

with that country
being the central

and defining issue
of Armenian identity

and a present-day
political reality

103 years after what just about
anyone would call genocide.

Turkey has always
adamantly denied that,

saying it was simply
a messy war.

Yerevan is the capital
of Armenia,

a city of about
one million people.

Mount Ararat looms over it,

a cultural touchstone
and a constant reminder

of what was done
on the other side.

Think of Armenia,
and chances are

you think instead
of an Armenian,

maybe someone you know
or maybe someone on TV.

These guys, for instance,
famous Armenians.

We needed an Armenian.

I needed an Armenian
to push me over the edge,

help me find a window,

a lens with which
to look at a country

which, for some reason,
I'd managed to not visit

on my travels.

Then, this guy reached out...

Serj Tankian, front man
for the Armenian-American band

System of a Down.

And the whole thing
started to fall into place.

Serj first visited Armenia
17 years ago.

Since then, he's performed
a number of shows,

including one
with System of a Down

during the centennial
of the Armenian genocide.

We meet up at Dolmama,

his favorite restaurant
in Yerevan,

and right away I identify
a potential problem.

Well, my first question is:

I understand you're
a pescatarian?

- Yeah.
- How does one...

You're like,
"What the fuck are you doing?"

This is a land-locked country

in the heart of, like,
meat on a stick zone.

Well, I'm interested to see

how you navigate your way
through this week.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Well, we've got amazing trout.

And lots of great veggies.

I'm just busting your balls.

Of course you are.

So how Armenian are you?
I mean...

That's a really good question.

You were born in...

Yeah, I was born in Beirut,
grew up in I.A.

I'm Armenian by culture.
Both my parents are Armenian.

My grandparents, you know,
ended up in Syria and Lebanon

because of the genocide.

And how Armenian am I?

That's a really
good question, man.

The majority of Armenians
that live in the Diaspora

didn't voluntarily migrate.

You know, they were...
They were forced migrations,

pogroms, you know,
after the genocide.

So they ended up
in the Middle East and Europe

and different parts
of the world.

So, we have this kind
of feeling of being kicked out,

and that longing is different
than other diasporas I think

because of that.

Diaspora Armenian communities,

wherever they are,
have been held together

by deep feelings of nationalism

and injustice
for what happened to them

and how the world
refused to acknowledge it.

Dolmama specializes
in modern versions

of Armenian classic dishes.

Khashlama, a braised lamb shank

served with rice pilaf.

It's a big little snack.

That is a leg of...

a leg of lamb,
a little guy, yes.

Yeah.

Wow. It's pretty too.

So manti is like
my grandmother used to make it,

but it looks completely
different than this

because this is
vegetarian manti.

They're like little boats
with spices and onions.

You probably thank
Genghis Khan for this.

The dumplings.

He made it happen.

He took all the manuscripts,
killed a million people but...

- But he left you dumplings.
- He left... yeah.

Mmm, that's awesome.

Yeah, this is what
my soul needed.

Good.

What was it like
coming back the first time?

And how old were you,
and what was it like?

I had a mystical connection

because I had never been
to Armenia.

And we had only read about it
in books per se, you know.

Modern Armenia is different

than what I had thought of,
you know,

because it's thriving,
it's young, you know.

It's got a lot
of interesting dynamics.

And I remember the first time
I flew back to I.A.

the feeling that I got
getting out of the plane

is "Why am I back here?"

Like, it was a weird thing
where it's this...

Inescapable feeling
of kind of the land

having some kind of pull

on your blood
or something like that.

Genealogy, I don't know
what it is.

Do you think that Armenia
looks to the West for anything?

Yes, definitely.

I think, you know, culturally

Armenia is very European.

- Culturally? But...
- Culturally.

Politically, it's very much
tied into Russia.

Not just
as an ex-Soviet republic,

but there's a lot of economic
investment from Russia,

and Russia, obviously, based
on the last two world wars

is extremely... what's the word...

They're very afraid
of their borders, let's say.

Yes, they are
acutely sensitive...

- Acutely sensitive.
- To particularly this area.

There are three million
Armenians living in Armenia,

another eight million
around the world.

Ever since the genocide,

it's been a long, existential
struggle for survival.

Recent history is defined
by three major events...

A massive earthquake in 1988,

followed by the collapse
of the USSR in 1991,

and then a full-scale war
with Azerbaijan in 1992.

Not to mention limited
employment opportunities

and most significantly
its borders,

of which approximately
80% have been closed

due to relationships
with its Turkish

and Azeri neighbors.

Things have not been easy
for Armenians.

♪

On a hillside
overlooking Yerevan sits

a sprawling memorial
to the genocide of 1915.

On the other side of town,
another memorial,

the Yerevan Cascade.

Richard Giragosian
is an American-born professor

and political analyst
who now lives here in Armenia.

How many were lost during this?

Most estimates historically

put it around 1.5 million.

That's a lot of people.

Especially a lot of people
when we look at the per capita,

when we look at the impact
this had.

So, what happened?

In the early 20th Century,

what was historically
western Armenia

was under the control
of the Ottoman Empire,

present day Turkey.

Justifying their actions
by the widely held sentiment

that Christian Armenians
would align themselves

with a hostile
and also Christian Russia,

then undergoing
its second revolution

and threatening their borders,

the Turks rounded up
Armenian intellectuals

and summarily executed them.

Military and police units were
dispatched to the countryside

to drive out Armenians
from their villages.

They hanged local leaders
in the town squares,

burned churches,
destroyed manuscripts,

then marched anyone left
towards the Syrian desert,

deliberately starving them
along the way.

Those who survived
scattered across the globe.

They formed large
and vibrant communities

that survive today.

They never forgot the past

and who and what had pushed them

from their homeland.

Let's start with this:
genocide.

Many people seem awfully
and curiously reluctant

to use this word.

As American national
foreign policy,

we use what, "catastrophe"?

Yeah, a "regrettable
series of incidents."

- Yeah, how insulting.
- Yes.

But, I mean, it seems to me,

just as a casual observer,

anytime a state actor
or organization

makes a concerted
and organized effort

to eradicate any ethnic
or national group

that... that's genocide, right?

Yes, what's important
though, however,

is this is our defining issue.

This is the unifying issue,

and it's probably in many ways

the only defining issue,
both good and bad.

For Armenians, both Diaspora
and living here?

Yes, it's the fact that, yes,

my grandfather's a survivor,
every family's touched.

But it's not the personal.
It's also the political.

If Turkey wasn't so adamant
about denying

the historical accuracy,

this is what makes it
a living issue,

a present issue.

- Going forward...
- Mmm-hmm?

Do you think there will be
some kind of reconciliation?

Well, I'm
a little more positive.

This is now the turning point,

Armenia looking to normalize
relations with Turkey

not because of the genocide
but despite the genocide.

Do you have any expectation

of fruitful negotiations
with Erdogan?

It seems to me that
things have...

kind of taken a downward turn.

They have, but it was
never supposed to be that easy

or that quick.

We also need to go beyond
victimization

and to take more pride
in survival.

♪

♪

Lavash, the national bread.

An ever-present feature
of the Armenian table

and a part of everyday life.

Baked on a tonir,

or underground clay oven,

its preparation is passed down
from generation to generation.

Markets like Gum
near the city center

date back to Soviet days,

but they remain a favorite stop

for an older generation
of Armenians.

October brings an array
of seasonal produce,

and Miriam
and her grandmother Leah

pick up ingredients
for a fall tradition...

Ghapama, a rice dish
baked in pumpkin.

The top of the pumpkin
is removed,

and the seeds and pulp
are scraped out.

Dried fruit, almonds, and honey

are mixed with rice
and baked inside.

Incredible.

So, as main course
we prepared Ghapama,

which has its own song.

Serj?

Usually, when you bring in
the dish, you sing it.

We don't cook it very often,

but it's an autumn meal.

We have some pickles there.

We have Armenian cheese there.

And I'm going to serve
Armenian bread.

And this looks like...

It looks like hummus.

- It is hummus.
- That's hummus.

Hummus and bread.

And it's not Armenian.

This is mutabal.

We're not laying any claims
that they're Armenian,

but many western
Armenian families

grow up with this
on the table as well.

Miriam, her mother,
and grandmother

were all born here in Yerevan.

Her husband, Nazareth,
and his family

are more typical
of the diaspora Armenians.

His mom, Nar, was born
in Beirut.

Nazareth, in Toronto.

What language
will your children speak?

Where will they live?

- Here.
- Yeah, here.

No hesitation?

That's the easy question
to answer.

But I think the two of us

would like them to grow up
being equally comfortable

with Armenian, Russian,
and English.

All three languages
are very, very important

for anyone growing up
in Armenia.

They are the two largest
Armenian diasporas,

Russia and America, so.

How many years was it
part of the Soviet Union?

Uh, 70 years, since 1921
more or less until 1991.

So, 70 years.

But what remains of those times?

You sound... wistful
about the old days.

Are things better now or worse?

When Armenia was swallowed up
by the Soviet Union in 1922,

it became the Armenian
Soviet Socialist Republic.

With that came purges
and paranoia

but also a rapid
industrialization,

the evidence of which
is still seen today

in the abandoned factories
and worker's blocks

of another time.

And a Soviet mentality
and sizeable Russian presence

still hang over the country
like a dead weight.

No matter how you felt
about Soviet rule,

the transition was a rough one.

After the collapse
of the USSR in 1991,

Armenia suffered
terrible food shortages

and a ruined electrical grid

that allowed only a couple
of hours of power a day,

if you were lucky.

The worst of those years
would be 1992 to 1994.

But then a few years
after '94 as well.

There was a lot
of pilferage in the beginning.

There was a lot of...
It was dark, dark days.

And the generation
literally learned alphabet

with the candlelight.

Back then, we had only
two hours maybe?

It was something to observe

because during those two hours

someone would go to the balcony

and scream in the yard:

"We have lights,
the electricity is back!"

And everybody would go
do their laundry,

ironing, and cooking.

Everything would be done
in that one hour.

Oh yeah.

But they raised us with love,

and we would play games.

Ma would have her friends
coming over playing guitar.

Looking back, I don't remember
the darkness.

I remember that it was dark,

but emotionally
we didn't feel that.

Parents, grandparents
really did their best

for kids not to feel
the darkness.

It was heroism on their part.

Especially in the winter.

Especially the winter.

But also I think we're observing

a very interesting period
of our history

when change is happening.

Little by little,
and it's us to make.

Right, Serj?

♪

The Tumo Center

is an after-school program
for kids.

You get to pick your course
of study,

be it art, technology,
creative writing, whatever.

There are no grades,

no mandatory
course requirements,

and upwards of 14,000 kids
are enrolled

at four locations
across Armenia.

It's free,
an entirely non-profit,

privately funded venture,

an investment in the youth
of a young country.

The main goal is

to complement
their formal education.

The curriculum is not mandatory.

You pick what you want.

You can pick music,

graphic design, 3D modeling,

or programming, games,

whatever, photography, robotics.

The managing director,
Maria Lou Papazian,

and her husband Pegor
are two former members

of the Armenian Diaspora,

both extraordinary
but not unusual

in the new Armenia.

They're not ex-pats but re-pats,

people who though not born here

have chosen to come home
and help build a nation.

Well, we grew up
together in Beirut

then moved to the States.

And the reason we moved

was because of
the Armenian thing.

Our kid was growing up,

so we told our friends
we're gonna move,

we need him to go
to Armenian school.

So they said,
"You're going to Armenia?"

I said,
"No, Glendale, California."

But, eventually,
we did move here, 12 years ago.

Living in Glendale

and keeping always saying

you have to keep your identity

was strange.

And every time coming up
with stories for the kids,

you have to love your country,

you're Armenian,
you have to speak Armenian.

Whereas once you're here,

you just forget all about that,

and it's more about being
a good person,

having ambitions, all of that.

And the Armenian part,

you can let that
happen naturally.

Apricot vodka
is a good start to a meal.

Gyan is local favorite,

a restaurant operating out of
what was once a private home,

something of a throwback
to Soviet days

like the Cuban paladars,
when private enterprise,

not to mention the spending
of money on entertainment,

could be frowned on,
and privacy was at a premium.

Trout wrapped and baked
in lavash.

This is not light cooking.

There's certain things

about especially maybe
the last 20, 30 years

of the Soviet Union, '60s on,

that not the brutal, early
Bolshevik Stalinist times

but later on were,
in terms of investment

and culture and education...

Well, I mean, it's very much

a legacy of the Soviet Union.

Armenia was kind of
a nerd republic in a way.

They specialized
in different republics,

and Armenia was where
they concentrated

science, technology,
particle accelerator,

radio telescope, all of that.

And so we benefitted from that,

and you see a lot of
Armenians attributing that

to our "genes" and so on.

But, of course, our genes
are the same as anyone else's.

It's the culture that...
Right.

You know, you take
the good with the bad,

and the good is we're
a cerebral nation in a way.

That's how we grew up.
We like chess.

We're like we're nerds.

Armenia enjoyed
a somewhat celebrated status

during Soviet times,

and Russian influence
is everywhere still.

Chess is taught
in public schools,

a basic life skill.

It's probably the fact that
Armenia was such a powerhouse

of smart, highly educated
brainiacs

with strong backgrounds
in engineering, math,

rocketry, and technology,

a veritable Silicon Valley
of the Caucuses

that largely spared them
the worst of Soviet rule,

and also perhaps the reason
that it continues

to be a leader in IT.

I meet a few members
from the tech community

at a local brewery in Yerevan...

Arthur, an industry writer,

Harot, a software engineer,

and Ruben, a cyber security
consultant.

So what are you making?

What is coming of this?

IT is a big...

- For the country.
- It's a big house.

So, websites,

web based stuff and chip design.

We're all over the place
actually.

But this comes
from the old times, you know.

Like, in Soviet times
what happened is

they manufactured chips,

lots of electronic stuff for...

I heard for Soviet submarines.

But actually it was

a success story
in the Soviet time.

You can have a success story

if you were
a Communist Party official

or if you were doing science.

Or perhaps artist,
and that's it.

And the science was
the most clean career.

I mean, you were not
compromising your own beliefs,

and you were
doing something good.

If you were to imagine
the perfect business

and the most efficient export
for a land-locked nation

with most of its borders closed,

it would be
information technology, right?

Or, to put it simply, brains.

They teach chess in school?
Yes.

In school?
Starting at what age?

Third grade.
My son hates it, he's...

No, second grade.

- So everybody plays chess?
- Yeah, you kind of...

That already is
a very different...

I have a ranking actually.

Really? I didn't know.
Come on.

Small number.

But that's a very different
mentality than most places.

Actually, my mom
took me to chess class.

It was not because
of the country's

like a super nation in chess
or something.

Just she wanted to take me
some place

where, like, I can develop
my brains.

But, actually,
there's a quick answer.

When you are being oppressed

during your history,

knowledge is something
that cannot be taken off you.

Anything can happen.
Soviet Union can collapse.

There can be pogroms.
There can be immigration.

They can take your home.
They can take your fortune.

But knowledge and skill
is something

that remains with you
for all of the time.

And that's why Armenians
are investing in education,

in knowledge, in skill,

to invest in the development
of a child.

All of us are children
that were invested in.

The knowledge is something
that you always keep with you.

I think this explains a lot.

My trip to the disputed,

Armenian-controlled enclave
of Nagorno-Karabakh

requires an early morning stop
at a military base

on the outskirts of Yerevan.

And, apparently,
a flight in this thing,

a smoking, flame-belching,
banged-up looking

Soviet Mi-8 twin turbine chopper

whose appearance
prior to boarding

does not fill me
with confidence.

But, once up in the air,

it takes me over crags
and peaks and steppes

across the international
recognized border

with Azerbaijan

to what the Armenians
call Arstakh,

an isolated pocket
surrounded on all sides

by Azeris.

Whose mountains these are

is a subject of contention
and conflict to say the least.

When the borders of
the South Caucasus were drawn

by the Russian conquerors
some 200 years ago,

a strong Russian presence
kept ethnic

and religious rivalries
in check.

But, whenever disorder
hit Russia,

war has broken out here.

Most recently, after the fall
of the USSR.

The brutal conflict
went largely ignored

internationally.

As with any war,

particularly wars with an ethnic

or religious component
over territory,

it was ugly, murderous,

and with atrocities
committed by both sides.

1992 was a turning point.

The Armenians organized
and created their own army

and, surprising everyone,
pushed through

and took full control
of Karabakh

and the surrounding areas.

These buffer zones
are ethnically Azeri

and bitterly contested

and the subject
of continuing dispute.

There are still
violent confrontations,

the latest being
a four-day battle

in the Spring of 2016.

Russia's role in the conflict

is suspiciously cynical.

They actively arm, support,
and advise both sides

as it appears in their interest

that there be
no lasting resolution.

♪

Travel to this region
continues to be

a particularly sensitive issue,

especially for the Azeris.

Simply by coming here,
I've become,

as I read in the papers
a few days later,

officially persona non grata
in Azerbaijan.

Stepanakert is the capital
of the autonomous republic

of Nagorno-Karabakh.

And overlooking it,
the village of Shushi.

Zhingalov Khats is
a specialty of the region.

This lavash bread is stuffed
with greens and onions

before being toasted
atop a cast-iron sheet.

Khorovats... basically,
Armenian barbecue.

Meat on a stick,

which is... let's face it...
Always good.

Khorovats.

Armenians try sometimes
to cook it.

Not the same thing.

Armenia and Karabakh,

two different things
or the same?

Not really. Karabakh is...

definitely part of
the Armenian civilization,

the Armenian culture.

I wouldn't separate them.

I think Karabakh is
part of Armenia

but not part of
the Republic of Armenia.

It's like a continuation
of Armenia.

We are the same.

Tegran served in the military

and is now is Karabakh's
only opposition party.

Tatool is a journalist.

Saro, our host, is Armenian

but born in Azerbaijan,

having fled during the war.

He now runs a guest house
here in Shushi.

To what extent is this
just a religious conflict?

- No, it's not really.
- Not at all?

- No, no, no, no. Nothing...
- No, no.

This is a Christian island.

Well, this is
Christian island, it's true.

This is Christian island.

But the conflict
of Nagorno-Karabakh

is not religious.

There are people here,
hardliners here,

who refer to Azeris as Turks.

- But they are Turks.
- They are Turks.

- They are Turks, yes.
- Please explain.

I think probably they are
not ident...

They do not bear
historical responsibility

for the actions committed
by the Ottomans.

But the struggle of
the people Nagorno-Karabakh

for their existence is
continuation of the struggle

of Armenian people
to live peacefully on...

In their historical homeland.

I'm not saying that
Azeris and Turks

are the same nations.

But they are Turk nations...

They're working in unison.

Yeah, they're working
in unity today

to isolate Armenia.

Do you think there's a sense

that when people
look at this conflict

they think they look back
and they say

this is what could happen
in the future?

Yeah, absolutely.

It is absolutely
an existential conflict.

If we lose, we know
that we will be destroyed.

Who will help?
Who cares?

Support?

Who will support you

if things once again get ugly?

What do you think the future...

- No one, no one. We.
- No one?

I think there is
a clear understanding

in Armenian society

that we can only rely
on ourselves.

But another reality
is we are paying

very, very high price.

Since 1994, Armenian
and Karabakh sides

lost about 3,000 soldiers.

We are losing our 18,
20 year old sons, you know.

This is sad reality.

And I don't know how
will this situation continue.

I don't know.

I think it's the right time
to drink for peace.

For peace, yeah.

You read my mind now.

So, cheers.

Cheers.

♪

It's a 3 1/2 hour train ride
from the capital to Gyumri,

Armenia's second largest city.

Gyumri was at the near epicenter

of the magnitude 7.0
earthquake

that absolutely devastated
much of the country in 1988,

killing 25,000 people

and displacing hundreds
of thousands more.

Recovery was made more difficult

by the subsequent collapse
of the Soviet Union

and the Karabakh war.

Manufacturing, infrastructure,

the country's industrial base
and political stability

all crumbled
along with the buildings.

The cemetery
on the way into town

gives you a powerful reminder

of how many died.

One tombstone after another
after another,

all dating back
to the same year.

Poloz Mukuch sits
on a recently rebuilt street.

Inside, I meet with
three young Gyumritzi

determined to rebuild
and revitalize

their city and their country.

Anush works for
an equal rights NGO

back in Yerevan.

Amalia is in tech,
and Gayan works in tourism.

So were you all born here?

- Yes.
- Born in this city.

But two of you live here.
Who doesn't live here?

I live in Yerevan.

You live in Yerevan now.

I have lived in Yerevan
for four years,

and that's the beauty
of my story.

Then I came back.

It doesn't matter
how it was hard to suffer here.

Me, my family, my father,

we never thought
to leave the city.

And that's why for me
Gyumri history

is divided into two parts.

Like, before earthquake

the nice story
I heard from my parents,

and after the earthquake

the difficulties
and hard times we had.

But also the renaissance

that now the city is changing

because the generation
is changing.

This is...
This is some typical soup.

Oxtail? Oxtail soup, yeah.

It should be a little spicy.

- Good.
- Yeah.

And this is liver and heart?

- Yes.
- Delicious.

With tomato and oil.

This, what's this dish called?

I mean, I know what it is,
it's a sheep's head but...

- Yes.
- This is called "kalleh."

- "Kalleh." Kalleh.
- In the local language.

When I was kid,
I remember my father

not only went
to restaurant with kalleh,

but he brought it home for us.

- Oh yeah?
- And I was afraid.

I was afraid of the teeth.
Yeah.

Actually, you got
the good part there.

Yeah.

So, let me ask this.

Technology not just here
but Armenia in general

seems to be the major hope
for the future.

What do you think the city
will be like in 20 years?

You know, the history
is not a stable thing

that we can count on.

But what I see 10 years ago
and 10 years now

Gyumri is developing quite fast.

It's really good.
I see really good developments.

And I can say that's mostly due
to the younger generation.

I would definitely say that.

It's self-employment
and entrepreneurship

that is developing
among the youth

very, very in a very kind of
fast way these days.

Because people understand
that if you stay in Gyumri

you need to create
your own stuff.

We never should stop.

We never should wait for others

to help our city and ourselves.

We should think,
we should create,

we should use our strong sides

to move forward.

♪

The GAZ M21 Volga

Executive Class four-door sedan.

Don't mind us.
We're just Volga'ing.

The ultimate
is Soviet driving luxury.

Corinthian leather, nice.
Yeah.

Wonder what top speed
on this thing is.

I don't want to wonder.

The decelerator
isn't that great.

Right.

Only an hour's drive
from the capital

sits Lake Sevan

in some beautiful countryside.

So it's the Switzerland
of Armenia?

Dilijan is the Switzerland
of Armenia.

It's one of
my favorite spots actually.

What am I eating today?

I think you're eating
khash today.

Said to be a hangover cure.

That's it, yeah.

It's made out of
legs of cows, I think.

Cool, I like legs of cows.

I like their eyes.

Not to eat but just to look at.

Me too, they're so dreamy.

They are.

Yeah.

No, it's beautiful here.

♪

Cheers, thank you.

- Yeah, thanks.
- They're cold.

Yeah, I'm offering it short,

but it has like I want to do it
for Armenia,

for the hosts
and for the khash makers.

Okay. Good.

Cheers. Cheers. Welcome.

Joining Serj and I at the table

are George, his longtime
manager and friend,

Malina, the proprietor
of the place,

and Sam, a restaurateur
from Yerevan,

along with some friends.

Khash is what hipster goofs
these days

would call bone broth,

basically a stock flavored
by roasted beef bones.

In Armenian,
we say "khash."

It means just boiled.
Right.

So there is big debate whether
it's Georgian or Armenian.

Of course, every Armenian
is sure it's Armenian.

What are you talking about?
What are you talking about?

Don't do the lavash first,
please.

We're gonna do the...

Garlic, garlic.
First comes garlic.

I see.

But pay attention to the salt.

If you are not leveling it
with the right level...

Garlic level for you, it's okay?

Yeah, so garlic.
So far so good.

Then, okay, you have
one more plate.

You remove the meat.

Wow, this is...
You take this very seriously.

- Yeah, yeah.
- This is a ritual.

It's a ritual.

Does everybody have
their own style?

Or is this the absolute...
This is the way?

Yeah, but the classics say

you have to eat with your hands.

This is... this is the classics.
You eat with your hands.

Whoever is not eating
with his hands,

they are teasing him.

"Hey, you're a loser"
or something like that.

- Really?
- Yeah.

And you're literally
judged by a person

if he's eating good khash or...

- Yeah, yeah.
- Like, "See the guy?"

He's the first, see the guy.

- Harsh. That's...
- See the guy.

You're like the Ayatollah
of food, man.

You're very...

Ayatollah.

- Are you ready?
- Yeah.

Okay, we have a saying

when we first come to a house

to a place that hosts us.

We say...
[speaks Armenian]

Which literally means:

"Let my feet bring
luck to this home."

So, let your feet
bring luck to our country,

to Dilijan, and to this home.

I think guys with khash
we do like lots of toasts,

but it has to be short.

You can go like Armenian toasts
are very long.

Because people have
to be concentrated on khash.

No, no, no, because it
will get cold.

Yeah, yeah, we were
always between Iran and Rome.

So, we're used to being between
to survive.

You remember you asked
the very first question,

"What is the guy
who comes back to Armenia,"

"what do they feel?"

They feel "I survive."

I did what my grandfather
wanted,

what his great grandfather
wanted.

We are here to survive
no matter is it a war.

We're gonna still have
this feast.

- That's a good toast.
- Yeah, badass toast.

♪