My first free weekend in Armenia was something I had been eagerly anticipating, and as someone who finds peace and purpose in nature, I knew I wanted to spend it hiking. I had heard about Mount Sevazhayr, labeled as a medium-difficulty hike; not too easy, not too intense.
From the moment I started the ascent, it was clear this was no simple trail. The terrain was steep, and we had to pause often to catch our breath. But despite the physical challenge, the landscape was breathtaking: rolling green hills, patches of wildflowers, and herds of cows grazing peacefully, sometimes blocking the trail entirely. It was both amusing and surreal, like stepping into a pastoral painting.
But the true beauty of this hike wasn’t just the scenery, it was the people I met along the way. Among the hikers were Russians who had immigrated to Armenia, as well as local Armenians eager to share their mountains and stories. The atmosphere was open and welcoming from the start. At rest points, strangers offered snacks and homemade treats, and by the time we reached the peak, we were no longer strangers. Someone played music from their phone, and soon, traditional Armenian songs filled the air. There was dancing, laughter, and the kind of spontaneous joy that only seems to happen at the top of a mountain.
What struck me most was the sense of community, of warmth and care from people I had just met. The shared experience of reaching the peak united us, even if we came from different places and spoke different first languages. At one point, as we sat eating together with the wind whipping through the summit, I realized how rare it is to feel this connected, both to nature and to others.
An unexpected highlight was meeting a group of economists during the climb. As an economics major myself, I found our conversations both intellectually refreshing and surprisingly meaningful. These talks stayed with me and have even helped shape some of my future academic interests.
Mount Sevazhayr was more than just a hike; it was a turning point. It reminded me why I love hiking, not just for the physical challenge or the scenery, but for the people, the stories, and the moments of clarity you find along the way.
As long as I’m in Armenia, I plan to keep hiking. If Sevazhayr taught me anything, it’s that the trails here are full of surprises, some challenging, some profound, and all unforgettable.
Opportunity Scholarship Recipient
Dan E. Davidson Fellowship Recipient
Advanced Russian Language and Area Studies Program (RLASP)
Yerevan State University (YSU)
Yerevan, Armenia, Summer 2025