Ukraine

There is a proverb in Russian which goes something like this: If you are afraid of wolves, then stay away from the forest. Samvel Akobian is not afraid of wolves, and neither is Robert Avetisyan or the thousands of Armenians who call the Crimea home. "You take risks in the United States. You have to work hard to get somewhere, and the same is true here. I am not afraid of wolves," he said during a recent tour of his paper factory on the outskirts of Simferopol, the capital city of the Crimea.

When a group of Armenian "pilgrims" visits the Crimea in August this year, they will trace the footsteps of their ancestors who first began settling the region more than 1280 years ago. Their walk through history will give them a taste of one of the oldest Armenian communities in the Diaspora. They will witness not only the ancient Armenian heritage of the Crimea but also the post-communist renaissance of fellow. Armenians, including the survivors of the Stalinist era.

The Armenian population of the Crimea has jumped up from the mere hundreds in 1991 to more than 20,000 and is still growing, thanks to a handful of government officials who have gained the trust of the peninsula's Russian, Ukrainian and Crimean Tatar majorities. Gone are the days when Crimean-born Armenians were exiled to Siberia by Soviet dictator Josef Stalin and prevented from returning to their ancestral homes.

Ukraine is not dead yet —this title of the country's national anthem is representative of a nation which is struggling for survival and identity after centuries of hard knocks. Ukraine has been conquered by the Poles, Germans and Russians, and has just emerged from more than 70 years under the Soviet thumb.

Each and every city and town has its own history, often linked to the ancient Armenian churches which are once again becoming the focal points of community life. ''How can you see the 12th, 13th and 14th century Armenian churches in Teodossia and not feel the presence of your ancestors” says the city's parish priest Father Yeremia Magiyan. "We are not strangers here," he said during a recent two-week tour by this writer of the main centers of Armenian life across Ukraine and Crimea.

Azat Krikorian and Krikor Boghossian look back at their long years in the Soviet Army with mixed feelings. Proud Armenian officers they are, but unable to understand why they sacrificed so much for a cause which brought nothing but pain and suffering to their fellow country­men. Krikorian was wounded twice during World War II and lost a brother defending Moscow against the German onslaught. Boghossian was an orphan whose aunt and grandmother were exiled to Siberia.

The beauty of Crimea is said to have inspired poets, but the Soviet legacy has inspired headaches. Russia and Ukraine have bickered over the over the status of the Black Sea Fleet and Simferopol and now officials must figure out how to provide for an influx of people forcibly deported from their homeland during the Stalinist period.