Goshavank

Listen first. A small river runs somewhere below the trees, and the air carries the smell of damp leaves and old stone. The village of Gosh sits in a green fold of the hills of Tavush, in northeastern Armenia. Here the forest comes right down to the walls of the monastery. The stone underfoot is uneven, worn smooth by eight centuries of feet. Take a moment before you walk in. The quiet here belongs to the place.

Goshavank was founded in the late twelfth century, around 1188. At first it had a different name, Nor Getik, which means New Getik. An older monastery called Getik stood nearby. It was destroyed by an earthquake, and its monks needed a new home. They found it in this valley. The man who led them would give the monastery its later name, and his story is the heart of this place.

His name was Mkhitar Gosh. He was a priest, a teacher, and one of the most respected scholars of medieval Armenia. Today he is best remembered for a law code. At that time, Armenia had no state of its own, and much of the country was under foreign rule. Gosh wanted Armenians to have a written body of law. He collected church rules, local customs, and principles of justice into one book.

That book is often described as the first Armenian code of law. It covered marriage, property, inheritance, and the duties of rulers. Scholars still study it today, because it shows how people lived and argued in the medieval Caucasus. Here is a detail many visitors miss — Gosh also wrote fables. These are short moral stories, often with animals, a little like Aesop's tales. So the same man wrote laws and fables in this valley.

After Mkhitar Gosh died in the early thirteenth century, the monastery took his name. Goshavank simply means the monastery of Gosh. The village around it carries his name too. His grave is said to lie in a small chapel on the slope above the main complex. If you have the energy, follow the path uphill. The view back down over the roofs and the trees is worth the climb.

Now turn to the largest building, the main church. It is dedicated to the Holy Mother of God, known in Armenian as Surb Astvatsatsin. It was built in the late twelfth century. Look at the shape. A central dome sits on a cross-shaped plan, a form that is typical of Armenian church architecture. The walls are made of local stone in soft, warm tones. The building is simple on the outside. Its strength is in proportion, not decoration.

In front of the church stands a large hall called a gavit. A gavit is a kind of entrance hall that is common in Armenian monasteries. Monks and villagers gathered here for meetings and teaching. Visitors also used it as a place of burial. Step inside and let your eyes adjust to the dim light. Notice how the heavy stone columns and arches hold up the roof. Light enters through an opening high above.

Goshavank was more than a place of prayer. In the Middle Ages it was a centre of learning. Students came here to study theology, philosophy, law, and grammar. That learning needed books, and books needed a safe home. So the monks built a library. Look for a two-storey building in the complex. The lower level held manuscripts. Above it, a bell tower rises. It is an unusual and practical idea — a library and a belfry in one building.

Next comes the surprise that brings many people here. Inside the complex you will find khachkars. A khachkar is a carved stone slab with a cross at its centre, a tradition unique to Armenian art. Thousands stand across the country. A few of the finest were carved at Goshavank in the late thirteenth century by a master named Poghos. His work is so delicate that people often compare it to lace or embroidery.

Walk close to the khachkar and look carefully. The cross sits inside a dense net of tiny geometric patterns. Lines weave over and under each other, layer upon layer. It seems impossible that a chisel could cut stone this fine. Yet Poghos did it by hand, without modern tools. Another of his carved crosses from Goshavank is now kept in a museum in Yerevan, the Armenian capital. The one here still stands in its original setting.

Before you leave, look around at the other small chapels in the complex. They are of different sizes and were added over time. Some are little more than a single room with a small altar. Together they make the monastery feel like a small stone village. Walk slowly around the outside walls. You will see carved crosses and inscriptions set into the stone. Many inscriptions record gifts and the names of donors, in old Armenian letters.

The setting matters too. The forests of the Dilijan area surround the village, and many travellers combine Goshavank with walks in the hills. Not far away, a small mountain lake rests among the trees. In spring, the slopes turn bright green. In autumn, the leaves turn gold and copper against the grey stone. In winter, snow can cover the domes. Each season gives the monastery a different face.

Now stand still for one last moment. Look at the main dome, the library tower, and the delicate cross carved by Poghos. A scholar once wrote laws here so that his people could live by justice. Monks carried books up and down these stairs. Craftsmen spent months on a single stone. As you walk back toward the village, listen again for the river below the trees. It was here long before the monastery, and it is still running.