Tun (Տուն)

By Anaït Gevorkyan (IFM/BSc1, 2025–2026)

Tun. Տուն. Home. For Armenians, this word carries a weight far beyond its simple meaning. It is not just four walls and a roof. It is a symbol of identity, safety, and of belonging. In our history, when families were forced to leave their ancestral lands, the idea of tun became both a memory and a dream. It became a reminder of what was lost, but also of what lives on in our hearts. To say tun is to speak of the warmth of tradition, the family meals with everyone cooking together and setting the table, and the roots that bind us together no matter where life takes us.

For me, tun will always be tied to my grandmother’s house in Dilijan (a town in the North of Armenia). Every summer the whole family makes sure to visit her at the same time. It has been a tradition since before I was born. Nestled in the mountains, her home is always filled with the scent of food being cooked in the kitchen, the sound of laughter and music, and the comfort of her voice. Yet, her story reminds me that even this cherished place is fragile as her family was displaced by war many years ago. My grandma was not born in Armenia; she was born in Azerbaijan, and she was the last person in her family to move back home, “her real home”. That is what she calls Armenia. My grandma’s sister also got taken away to Turkey many years ago, but she did everything to come back home. This is why my grandma’s house is not just her shelter, it is her way of rebuilding “tun” after loss, proving that home can be recreated wherever Armenians carry their spirit.

That is why tun is so important to me and to Armenians. It is both a personal anchor and a national symbol, uniting us in our longing for peace and permanence. When I think of tun, I think of my grandmother’s courage, and of a collective Armenian dream: that no matter how far we are scattered, the essence of home will always live within us, and one day, we can all return to our tun.