I remember the place where I had my ear pierced well. On the way to a Motörhead gig, a friend and I decided to get our left ears pierced on Carnaby Street in London. At the age of 15 or 16 I knew my mum wouldn’t like it, but as my hair was well below my shoulders, I also thought I could keep it hidden for a while at least. Actually, I couldn’t, but that’s another story.

Fast forward 22 or so years and it’s time to do it again. The hole has obviously long since healed since 1994 when, just before setting off to photograph Nagorno Karabakh for The Independent, the Armenian Priest in London advised me to remove my earring first. He also suggested I get my hair cut which I didn’t really need to.

As soon as I stepped foot in Stepanakert, capital of the self-declared republic, a barber forced me into a chair and cut my locks without asking. It seemed impolite to refuse, especially as he declined to take my money.

Although many years have passed since then, I’m tempted to let my hair go wild again and to wear an earring if only to make a statement. Of course, Armenians don’t understand such things. Despite the number of guys who walk arm in arm around Yerevan, or kiss each other on both cheeks upon first meeting, the few men with earrings in this country are considered to be gay.

Obviously, the last thing any homosexual is going to do in Armenia is wear an earring as a result. Still, this societal attitude is yet another example of Armenian logic. Anyway, a stupid little thing such as a hole in your ear is still frowned upon in a country that is supposedly “opening up” now that a sex shop has materialized in Yerevan years after one did in Tbilisi.

In a society that largely believes men who wear earrings or goatees are gay, and that girls who wear mini-skirts are “whores” (see Short on Tradition”), merchandising sex is surely an adventurous venture.

To date, I think I’ve seen about five men with earrings in Armenia, and three of those were foreigners. Even rock musicians here have told me they’d never consider getting their ears pierced, despite the long hair that attracts the attention of young lads dressed in black eating sunflower seeds while loitering on street corners to measure up each other’s pointed shoes.

In men’s shoe fashion there are primarily two styles that are extremely popular and in plentiful supply: the long style, which is also narrow and comes to a point reminiscent to that of a samurai sword, and the long style with a squared-off toe. Sometimes, depending on the shoe model, the toe curls upwards, which resembles something you see worn by an elf in a cartoon.

God knows what the South Caucasus variant of leprechauns would do if they saw someone with long hair and an earring as well. It’s just not done, apparently, even 12 years after first setting foot on Armenian soil. In fact, one Diasporan friend has already warned me that not only will I attract attention, but that I might actually “have the shit kicked out of me” by “retarded members” of a still rather traditional society.

Or rather, you can get away with anything in the comfort of your home, but like the Soviet era, don’t let it be seen or known about in public. F*** that.

Others, however, are more supportive. Ironically, they are all women. Of course, they say, people will stare and laugh. They won’t understand, but they also won’t attack a foreigner. Besides, Nessuna said to me earlier in the day, they’re now used to seeing some male foreign tourists and international aid workers with earrings.

I did, however, do a quick search on the internet to see if I could find anything worth linking to for this post. To my amazement, I might of found the coolest Armenian priest ever.Wish I could have found him in London circa 1994, though.

On a lighter note, I wish I could tell you that I did it so that I would have a theme for an article or a topic for a sermon. That’s not why I did it. I did it for the same reason some of you wear a bracelet, a necklace, or a wig/toupee; or for the same reason you color your hair, wear designer clothes, smoke cigarettes, eat hamburgers, drive a nice car, etc. I did it as a matter of choice.

What I did was simply get my ear pierced and place an earring in my left lobe. Sounds simple enough? I wasn’t so naive to believe that this little ornament wouldn’t cause some people discomfort. But never did I figure that there would be so much back-room discussion over such a small object. It proved one thing beyond a doubt: people certainly don’t have many problems, if a little earring can occupy so much of their concern.

We all hold certain stereotypes by which we look at people. A priest has his share of “baggage.” I remember how amazed a parishioner was to learn that I had gone to a Jethro Tull concert. After all, a priest shouldn’t enjoy rock & roll music, right? And when it comes to earrings, a priest shouldn’t wear one, right?

[…]

Silly thing, isn’t it? Commotion about an earring? Don’t we have real problems in our lives, in our community, in our world? Of course we do. And if someone desires to look a bit differently, act a bit uniquely, laugh a little more intensely, why stand in their way?

As I’ll be 38 this year, I suppose I should think carefully about the “suitability” of wearing an earring again, but as society here prefers clones to individuality, it’s time for me to buck the trend at least. Too many young Armenians seem to resist any opportunity to express themselves because of the attitudes represented by the society around them.

To pierce or not to pierce? I think the answer has to be a big resounding “yes.” Besides, the resulting experiences on the streets of Yerevan in the coming days, weeks and months will surely give me something to post about. In the regions it should be even more interesting, to say the least, so stay tuned.