The Hovsepyans are a testament to the strength of a mother's love
Տեքստի բնօրիկակը անգլերեն է The Hovsepyans are a testament to the strength of a mother's love by Nyree Abrahamian Published: Thursday March 26, 2009 1. The Hovsepyan family: Back: Hayrapet (26), Hrant (21), Hayk (16), Hakob (19), Anahit (28), Murad (21), Gayane (21) Front: Susan (19), Serob (11), Gurgen (11), Larissa, Linda (10), Ashot (10) Absent: Ruzan (38), Andranik (26). Yerevan - In Yerevan, if you're looking for anyone under the age of 15 after school hours, chances are, you'll find them in a bak. A bak is a courtyard/parking lot area usually shared by several apartment buildings. Walk through any bak and you're sure to encounter children of all ages who live in the surrounding buildings playing tag, playing soccer, or up to some kind of mischief. The bak by St. Zoravar Church in central Yerevan is no different, except for one thing: most of the kids come from the same family. Meet the Hovespyan family. Mother, 67-year-old Larissa, 15 adopted children from all over the world, and six grandchildren. The Hovespyans' notoriety extends well beyond their bak. Often featured in the media, Larissa and her multiethnic family have become something of a household name in Armenia. It all started in 1982. After having raised the child of a relative for several years, Larissa, who was widowed, decided to adopt a child. At the time, she explains, she was a filmmaker, and would often travel to different parts of the Soviet Union to make films. From Lithuania, she adopted her first child, whom she named Hayrapet, after her father. "At the time, there were very few orphanages in Armenia, because there were very few orphans," she explains. "There wouldn't be more than 10-20 abandoned children per year. Lithuania, which was also a small country with a population of only 3 million, had 22 orphanages." Hayrapet, who is of Russian origin, will be 27 in May. He is now married and has a family of his own. In 1984, she would adopt two more children from Lithuania: Andranik (26) and Anahit (28). Andranik is of Lithuanian origin and Anahit is believed to be of Karaim origin, although it is not know for certain. She was abandoned at Vilnius airport. Then came Ruzan (38), an Azerbaijani girl born in one of the Armenian villages that was densely populated with Azerbaijanis before the war broke out and the population exchange happened. By this time, the media was starting to take notice of Larissa and her ever-growing family. There were several articles written about her, and even a film commissioned by the central Soviet film bureau in 1988, and as a result, she became known throughout Yerevan. She became the unofficial mother to the troubled youth of the city. Many kids would come and stay with her for short periods of time. Soon after, Larissa tried to return to Lithuania to adopt the siblings of one of her adopted children, but by this time, Lithuania had already broken with the Soviet Union, and she was denied entry. Instead, she went to Minsk, the capital of Belarus, where she tried to adopt six children, but was only successful with three: Murad (Ukrainian), Hrant (Angolan), and Gayane (Ethiopian-Russian). All three are now 21 years old. Things were going well for the Hovsepyan family until the early years of Armenian independence. Of course, Larissa had her hands full with laundry, cooking, homework, and everything in between, but she liked it that way. "Under the Soviet Union, my family was considered a ‘family-orphanage,'" says the mother of 15. That meant that the state allotted them suitable housing, a minibus, furniture, and all the necessities. Plus, they had a teacher, a doctor, a driver, and a cook. In the early 1990s, almost immediately after independence, the two properties that the government had provided for them became the property of city hall and were subsequently sold, leaving the Hovsepyan family homeless. "In those early years, when there was no electricity, we had moved temporarily to our driver's house in the village," says Larissa, "We came back to see that our home was sold off. We were put out on the street. Just like that." While the family stayed with different friends, Larissa was on the lookout for a new home. In 1997, she found their current ground-floor apartment and realized that it was abandoned. So she moved her family in. Since it is legally state property, they were evicted on a few occasions, only to move back in as soon as they found an opportune chance. Since 1997, Larissa has been fighting the government and knocking on every door to obtain ownership of the property. "My father is from Mush and my mother is from Rostov," she says with pride, "Both Mushetsis and Rostov Armenians are known for their strength. So you can say I have a strong base." Finally, this March, after a 12-year struggle, she got the title deed. Over the years, Larissa would continue to adopt children and provide temporary care for anyone who needed it. Today though some of the older children have moved out and formed families of their own, the bak, kitchen, living room, and every nook and cranny of the Hovsepyan household are always filled with the lively voices of children. Three of her grandchildren now live with her as well. Of course, like any family, there are fights. "People expect my kids to be perfect, but we're a family, aren't we? Of course there are fights," says Larissa. "The older ones pick on the younger ones, the younger ones try to get the older ones in trouble." Hrant, who is playing video games in the corner, shakes his head and laughs. At 21, he has become a well-loved figure not only in his neighborhood, but all over the country. Hrant is a singer. Since he was a child, he has been bringing crowds to their feet with his renditions of Armenian folk songs, revolutionary songs, and the kind of music that gets people dancing. He is also part of an Armenian hip hop group called H.A.Y.Q., whose hit single, "Kami Pchi" was one of the biggest songs of summer 2007 in Armenia. He and sister Gayane, who also loves to sing but has other career ambitions, have even wowed audiences in Los Angeles. Hrant is known as the jokester of the family. He constantly has everyone in stitches. Last year, he completed his service in the Armenian military. He was the talk of the town - an Angolan, with an Armenian passport, serving in the Armenian military. "Where would that Armenian army be if it wasn't for that Angolan with an Armenian passport..." he joked. Gayane is pursuing a career in tourism. She is currently studying tourism and hopes to work in the field as soon as possible. She is bright, friendly, and driven, and will no doubt succeed in the industry. As we chat, a ball hits the window from the bak, immediately followed by a scream of "Mama!" then "Dadik!" Somebody's up to something again and a weary Mama/Dadik (grandmother) Larissa gets up to investigate. The Hovsepyan children are blessed with a happy home and the unconditional love of their mother, but financially, she does not have the means to support them. In the Republic of Armenia, there is no special provision for "family-orphanages" like there was in the Soviet Union, so the only support the government offers her is her meager pension and an unrealistically tiny allotment per month for each child. But this is not even enough for the basic necessities of food and clothing. Larissa used to wash clothes and do alterations for extra money, but her age no longer allows it. Most of the help the family receives is through individual donors, like Jirayr Hovespian of Los Angeles, who met the family 10 years ago, and immediately bonded with them because of their shared last name and the fact that back in Iran, between him and his cousins, he grew up in a household with 15 children too. He is currently visiting the family and hopes to prepare a segment on Larissa's story for CNN Heroes. The family also has the backing of a few generous private enterprises, such as Ashtarak Kat, which supplies them with dairy products every week. Larissa, ever the negotiator, has also worked out a deal with the electrical company, so the company absorbs the cost of their enormously high electrical bill. The apartment, especially the bathroom, is in dire need of repair. With the help of a builder, Ashtarak Kat has taken the initial steps in compiling a breakdown of the renovations that are needed and their costs. They hope to present this list to different construction companies to see if each one can donate the supplies for at least one project. They are also setting up a website for anyone who wants to donate to the cause. Recently, Larissa was diagnosed with breast cancer. She cannot afford the pills or the treatment for her illness. As she speaks of it, her forehead creases with worry, but she quickly waves it off and adds wryly, "The good news is, the government has upped my pension by 1,500 drams." Many people have suggested that she turn her home into a certified orphanage or an NGO to receive more funding, but Larissa will hear nothing of it. "This is a family, not an orphanage. These are my children and I am their mother. Why should I deprive them of that?" Times are difficult, but Larissa is resolute. "I'll find a way," she says, with determination showing through her creased yet youthful eyes. "I always find a way."