Life and Freedom. The autobiography of the former president of Armenia and Nagorno-Karabakh
a different group of friends or my brother. I had always enjoyed hunting, and I knew our mountains well since early childhood.
I think it was the most tranquil and happiest period of my life. Happiness is when you live in peace with yourself instead of searching within to find purpose or the meaning of life. Just like when you don't think about your internal organs until they start causing you pain, you don't analyze the reason for your spiritual balance when you have it.
Three years went by quietly.
Thoughts of going back to college visited me periodically. Still, they didn't take root as they didn't go well with my eventful and pleasant life. I was always busy. We would either go hunting for a couple of days with friends or do some other activity, and I couldn't force myself to switch gears to do other things. "I have to go to college… I must. I will, but not now, later. Definitely…"
And then, one day, sometime in the spring, I got a summons from the military commissariat. I was to report for duty the next day for some kind of training. It alarmed me. I called a friend at the commissariat asking about it. He told me that we were to be shipped to Kazakhstan to either harvest or plant something or do some other work of similar nature. In other words – reclamation of tselina (a Soviet state development and resettlement campaign to turn underdeveloped, scarcely populated, highly-fertile lands – mostly located in the steppes of the Volga region, Northern Kazakhstan, and Southern Siberia – into a major agriculture producing region). "For how long?" I asked him. "For three to four months," he answered. Wow! I had planned to go to the Black Sea for the summer, definitely not Kazakhstan. I had absolutely no desire to reclaim tselina. Tselina? Really? The steppes again? I had already honorably served in the Mongolian steppes!
All my textbooks were ready at home, as I had always intended to start studying for the college entrance exams, but I couldn't find the time to do so. I had procrastinated, thinking that I had enough time ahead of me. But now…
In short, I didn't go to the commissariat. I quit my job within a day, gathered my belongings, and put all the necessary textbooks in a suitcase. I called my brother (he served in Georgia at the time, near Tskhaltubo). "Hi," I told him. "That's it, I decided to go to college! I am coming to stay with you to study for the exams." "I will not be here for almost a month," my brother replied. "You can stay here, no problem." I was in Georgia the next day. My brother's apartment was in a secluded and very picturesque location. I didn't know anybody there, not a single person. All I had was a suitcase full of books and a month to prepare for the entrance exams.
Oh, how I studied for those exams! And with such intensity and passion! It was simply unbelievable. I didn't know that I could mobilize to such a degree. In a couple of days, I had immersed myself in it completely, taking breaks only to eat and sleep. And even my dreams were mathematical. The setting was perfect for this kind of concentration: no one around, only the military base, the jail, and the tea plantation where the prisoners harvested tea under a convoy. I caught fish in the nearby river, rode my brother's small motorcycle to the local grocery store, and cooked for myself. The month passed. I knew that I was ready to take the entrance exams to any technical institute. All I had to do was to go there and get it.
I chose Yerevan Polytechnic University. I went to Yerevan straight from Georgia without making a stop in Stepanakert. I submitted my application to the Department of Electrical Engineering. I had to take two math tests: one written and one oral. In reality, two more exams were required – physics and a supervised essay – but applicants with a high school GPA of 4.5 and above (out of 5) were allowed to skip them. To be admitted, applicants had to get a combined score of 9 points (out of 10) on the two math exams.
First, I took the written test. I felt very confident: I finished it effortlessly and quickly and got out of the room. But, surprisingly, I only got a 4 (out of 5). Imagine my frustration! I had rushed and made a careless mistake, which I failed to catch before turning the test papers in. This meant that I had to get a perfect score on the oral math test. I answered all the questions and said to the proctor, "I need to get a 5 on this." "Why?" he asked. "I have a high GPA, and I was planning to take only the math tests. The next exam is physics, and I didn't study for it," I explained. Of course, I had studied for it, but not as well. "Ask me anything – I need a 5!" I insisted. The examiner wrote five math problems and said, "You solve these – you got your 5." It took me only about 20 minutes to solve the problems, one after another, quickly. The examiner glanced at the sheet and said, "Well done, 5!"
And I got in.
It was all thanks to that military commissariat summons. To this day, I remember the last name of our commissar – Kurochkin. And I am grateful to that Kurochkin for giving me a jolt. It sometimes happens in life when an unpleasant event shakes you up and makes you take decisive action. The commissariat summons sobered me up. It hit me that I had to change my life.
I didn't know Yerevan too well. It was strange, but despite being Armenian, I had only visited Yerevan twice before. Perhaps this was because I had few relatives there. My grandmother's brother – a very charming and incredibly modest retired colonel – lived in Yerevan. While attending college, I decided to visit him once. The old man didn't feel well and believed that he wouldn't last long. When I entered his room, he was lying in bed, sorting through the little boxes of his war medals. I was surprised and asked him, "What are these?" I began looking through the medals: Order of the Red Banner of Military Valor, Order of Lenin, one for Victory in Khalkhin Gol[5] – a very rare medal – medals from the Russian Empire period, including an honor cross "To the Participant of the Military Parade in Odessa," the only parade in which the Russian Emperor took part. I don't remember all of the medals; there were many. In a separate box, there was a handgun, a small beautiful Walther with an inscription, "To Major Karapetian from the People's Commissar of Defense Klim Voroshilov." I didn't know that my grandfather had participated in all the wars – from WWI to WWII. It turned out that I didn't know anything about him. In the 1920s, he was the first communications signalman in Armenia. And I found this out incidentally, simply because I came to visit him that day.
I did well in college; I took it a lot more seriously than the first time around. The dean's office made me the class leader, given my good grades and my service in the armed forces. I provided for myself financially. As а straight-A student, I was getting a higher stipend, and in addition, I had taken a part-time job at our department lab. Later, I also got a second part-time job as a security guard at the wood carving museum. I ended up there thanks to my friend who already worked at the museum and got me in as his shift reliever.
The museum turned out to be a very interesting place, a bohemian club of sorts where the artistic elite got together over a cup of coffee. I met a great deal of fascinating and charming individuals there. Sometimes, we organized dinner parties at night, right there at the museum, which the director, Henrik Solakhian, knew nothing about. A few times, we made kabobs on the mangal exhibited at the museum. Once, we forgot to clean it before putting it back on display, and the director caught us after he accidentally rubbed against it and his clothes got smeared with soot. Of course, he made a scene, but he didn't fire us. After that, we bought a regular mangal, and the director gladly joined us for our evening cookouts.
Working at the museum was perfect for a student. It provided an income and human interaction and the right conditions to study. I needed the income badly: in December of my freshman year, my father passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack. He never complained about his heart, was in good physical shape, and rarely got sick. I loved and deeply respected my father. His good name helped me