Grand show at Echmiadzin

The choir intoned its first hymn, thus giving a start to the solemn rite. Echmiadzin is the holy seat of the Armenian church, and as such, the already elaborate Armenian rite takes the proportions of a grand performance. A line of priests ascended the steps to the altar, the vantage point upon which most of the service took place. They were led in by their chief wearing a violet cassock and a crown; the rest wore a red tunic. The bright colours of their attire contrasted with the black frock of the monks, some hooded, who sat just below the altar. Some had a red stole across the shoulders. I was at a loss interpreting all these symbols in the clothing, but was sure there was a meaning to everything.
All the components necessary to make a grand show were present: the singing, and it is not exaggerated to define it lyrical; the glaring light from the bulbs and the candles; the waft of incense from the burners; the colours of the costumes, the gold of the decoration. The very structure of the church comprised a raised stage-like altar and a real curtain that was drawn at a given moments during the celebration.
When the priest stepped down from the alter holding a metal cross and followed by his retinue, everybody that stood near their passage huddled to kiss the cross. I had no time to think. The procession came abreast of me, and I don't know why or how but my head bowed and I kissed the cross too. I am against superstition, but I like to feel in communion with the place I am in. The atmosphere had dragged me to perform this act, and it was good not to be just an observer. I had played an active role and had felt real emotions for that.