Diana — My First Weaving Teacher
It was spring of 2024 in Armenia—a season of new beginnings and growth. During that time, I slowly fell in love with the country’s carpet and rug tradition.
My background is in wood art, so this craft was completely new to me. What drew me in right away was the color—something I was always wanting more of in woodworking. Wood has warmth and grain, yes, but carpets are something else entirely. They are explosions of color, pattern, and story.
It felt like discovering a whole new artistic world.
So I started searching for a weaving teacher in Yerevan. One day, during one of my long walks, I wandered into the Silk Road Hotel, which has a beautiful display of handmade carpets and crafts in the lobby. That’s where I learned about the Folk Arts Hub, an organization dedicated to teaching and preserving Armenian handicrafts—rug and carpet weaving, felt arts, belt making, and even lavash and gata baking. They teach children, adults, and even the teachers themselves. Through their Torki Adoption Program, they train educators in villages across Armenia to both weave and teach weaving.
But let me back up for a moment.
Picture this: a middle-aged guy walks into the hotel lobby wearing a big tan tourist hat, mostly deaf, not understanding Armenian and barely catching his own native English on a good day. I walked up to the front desk and asked if someone could teach me how to make carpets and rugs. I didn’t even know the difference between them. What exactly makes a carpet different from a rug?
Seda, who worked at the front desk, was warm and genuinely welcoming. Instead of brushing me off as a tourist with a random request, she took me seriously. She said she’d connect me with Diana Hovhannisyan, the director and weaving teacher. (I later became friends with Seda and her mother, who is a master embroiderer—Armenia works like that; people become family quickly.)
Later that day, Diana contacted me and said she could take me on as a student. She spoke English (as well as Armenian and Russian), and I signed up for a series of classes spanning about two to three months.
That’s how I started learning to weave an Armenian rug.
Diana turned out to be not just a great teacher, but a wonderful person—one of those rare people who seem to wake up every morning already smiling. She was always positive, endlessly patient, very kind, and had a great sense of humor. The Silk Road Hotel and the Folk Arts Hub quickly became a second home for me during a time when I was still adjusting to life in Armenia and truly needed a friend.
Learning rug-weaving was a blast. And Diana didn’t go easy on me: she opened with a challenge. I had to design my own rug. I absolutely did not expect that. I was ready to copy someone else’s pattern and just start weaving like a pro. Instead, I had to slow down, accept the challenge, and start from zero.
She helped by giving me books from their library and showing me carpets throughout the hotel and studios. I had plenty of inspiration. Eventually, I came up with a basic design, and over the next three months, I wove my first Armenian rug.
Along the way, I finally learned the difference between a carpet and a rug—and even signed up for another class afterward. At the end of my first course, there was a small celebration with sweets and the tradition of cutting the finished rug from the loom. It’s a symbolic moment, like sending your work—or maybe yourself—off into the world. Diana joked that now I could fly away on my new magic carpet.
I can’t thank her enough for what she gave me. She was the perfect teacher, mentor, and friend. I went on to learn even more from her and the whole team over the next year, and every time I pick up a weaving project, I think about the lessons they taught me and hold close to my heart.
