Those of you who are wondering what is "hassa", it first of all means I arrived in Armenian and some of you will know what story I am referring to. Those of you who do not know, have to be first told about my maternal grandfather we called "Dede". He was a hero during his youth having saved many Armenian women from their abductors after the deportations of the Armenian Genocide in 1915. He had been in jail twice and escaped both times. When he reached home no one recognized him at first.
In prison, they had tortured him so much that he had lost most of his eyesight and hearing. We had to talk loud into his ear for him to hear and he could only see shadows. He and my grandma, "Nene" lived within a few minutes' walk from us. They also lived even closer to their eldest son, my uncle Hrant and his wife, Aunt Arous. One night when Uncle Hrant had a meeting and Arous was visiting Dede and Nene, it got dark and Dede did not want Arous to walk half a block home by herself and accompanied her. As they approached the building, Arous told Dede that she can now see the building and that she can continue by herself. Dede stood there anyhow and kept asking "Arous hassar?" (Arous did you reach your destination?) And Arous to hollar back "HASSA!" Dede doesn't hear Arous and keeps repeating "Arous hassar?" Finally, having no other choice, Arous runs back to Dede, says "HASSA! HASSA!" and runs back home.
In my case it is the contrary. You all thought I had arrived a year ago. Physically yes, I had. But this is another kind of arrival. I am finally home instead of in a geographical location. Let me rephrase that. I am where I always wanted to be.
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