Kond - "slums" of Yerevan

The owner of a small house, lost among the narrow streets of Kond, poured oil directly onto an old metal stove and threw chopped potatoes onto it. Vegetables and chicken hearts appeared on the table at this time.

“Make coffee for the guests,” he said to his wife. Then he turned to us: "Don’t be afraid that I go back and forth with a knife, I want to cut food."

The house where we were invited for coffee consisted of two small rooms with a very modest decor. One room - a bedroom - was littered with various things, the second at the same time served as a kitchen and a hallway. At the door is the very stove, which served as a frying pan. Many people have problems with central heating in Conda, so almost everyone has their own stoves. Next to the stove was a table at which we were kindly seated. But the object, obviously the most dear to the owner, hung on a light wall among small icons and a cross. More precisely, there were two objects.

“Dad and mom,” he explained quietly when he caught my eye in the large old portraits of a man and a woman. There was genuine respect and respect in his voice. It seemed that it was these portraits, and not the stove, that warm the dilapidated housing and prevent it from collapsing.
The premises did not say that there was order, but there was not a speck of dust on the portraits, and from their place on the wall above us it seemed that the parents of the owner of this housing in the slum area were sitting at the table. Although the word "slum" can still be argued.

So what kind of cond is this? This is one of the most interesting areas of Yerevan. During last year’s autumn trip to Armenia, we visited him. The atmosphere of old streets is still preserved here, of which there are not so many in the capital of Armenia.

Konda managed to visit a poor citizen, whose house I described above, and vice versa - a man who by the standards of this region can be called a rich man. The poor man was shy and did not want to take pictures, but the rich man allowed.

Under the cutter are the streets and courtyards of Kond, his house, for some of which you can’t immediately say that they live in them, and some residents who met during the walk.

On the map of Yerevan, Kond is a small island of mazes of streets with low houses in the middle of avenues and high-rise buildings. To find yourself in the area, you must climb one of these stairs. One gets the feeling that you are climbing a huge ship, and when you remember that Ararat is very close, Noah's Ark comes to mind, of course.

Alas, we did not meet many locals, so I must say right away that there are few people in the post. Of course, part of the “zest” of the post is lost from this, but on the other hand, it’s also interesting to remain almost alone with the unusual area that appeared in the 17th century.

A trip through many streets can often and unexpectedly end in someone’s yard.

Yards are common for several families. Often families know each other, are friends, and when it’s warm, they spend time here together in conversations, deeds and communication.

Around Kond, Yerevan is being built and expanded. I do not know if the modern city will swallow one of its once rich regions. I also heard different things about the desire to live here. Some said they wanted to leave here, because there were no conditions, while others recalled cases when some attempts to demolish and relocate people here ended up with locals getting their machines hidden and, to put it mildly, not very happy with decisions about their fate your area.

Yes, I did not say that it is only 10-15 minutes walk to the center of Yerevan from here.

Rich house.

Such different neighbors.

People live in this house.

And in that. Maybe even several generations of the same kind.

In the depths of the narrow street area is becoming more and more.

And again we are at someone’s door.

“What are you shooting?” I hear from behind. The voice was just curiosity and interest. Anger, as sometimes happens with such questions, was not felt at all. We talked with a woman. Then her husband came out, the very owner of the poor house. They invited us for coffee.

We sat at the table, talked, and then went on to get acquainted with Cond.

“My house is always open for you,” the owner told us goodbye.

When they say “slums,” garbage, dirt, and poor sanitation are often presented. The streets of Conda are mostly clean - no dirt, no household waste. For several hours, landfills met only a couple of times. So I don’t know how to call Cond a slum. Maybe the old city is more suitable here.

In some yards you can see cars that you obviously do not expect to meet here.

A lot of the Soviet automobile industry.

We were again invited to visit for coffee. This time we got into a rich house. It was once bought by the grandfather of the current owner. The owner himself works in an Italian construction company and even goes on business trips to Africa.