By Grigor Harutyunyan
Head of Public Relations Department, Information and Public Relations Center of the Office of the Prime Minister of Armenia, Armenia
Today’s newsfeed tells a clear story — our world is increasingly fragmented. Conflicts flare, mistrust deepens, and misunderstandings multiply. Yet I believe there is no alternative to unity. Especially in such times, the ability to connect across cultures isn’t just valuable — it’s essential.
Even our most striking cultural differences aren’t walls — they’re windows.
I remember my first breakfast in Nanchang. A pair of chopsticks lay beside my plate, and I felt momentarily lost. In Armenia, we usually eat with a knife and fork — sometimes with our hands, especially when it comes to barbecue or grape leaf dolma. But trying chopsticks wasn’t just a new way to eat — it was a way to open a new window.
At first, it took too long to finish my food. I’d often leave the table half-hungry because the Belt and Road Journalists Forum program was intense and the bus didn’t wait. Now, though, I’ve grown used to chopsticks. Not yet with mastery — but with ease.
These things may seem small — just eating habits. But they are stories, too. Stories of climate, soil, tradition, belief. In one place, people use spicy sauces in everything. In another, sauces are almost never used. Each way of doing things reflects a unique rhythm of life.
And when these stories are told by journalists, they become bridges — not barriers.
Journalism today must become a space for real dialogue between civilizations. Our job is not only to deliver facts, but to make people visible — to remove labels, challenge stereotypes, and replace indifference with curiosity.
For instance, when I tell the story of Grandma Rima, who still bakes lavash bread in a traditional tonir in Armenia’s Taronik village — resisting modern appliances and choosing to stay true to ancient methods — it can be just as vivid as telling the story of a Chinese woman who carefully dries tea leaves over a hot pot, burning her fingertips in the process.
In fact, I was deeply impressed to learn how the Chinese government is supporting efforts to preserve the tradition of tea culture among younger generations. It made me reflect on how different societies protect their cultural identity while opening up to others.
This is why, to me, the Belt and Road Initiative is about more than just infrastructure. Roads can be constructed, but what truly matters is who travels them — and why. Cultural understanding and trust are the traffic of those roads.
Armenia has recently launched the “Crossroads of Peace” initiative — a project that aligns naturally with the spirit of the Belt and Road Initiative. Its goal is to build or restore key transportation, energy, and communication infrastructures that would connect Armenia with all its neighbors — Turkey, Iran, Georgia, and even Azerbaijan — without the need for external control or mediation.
But more importantly, this vision goes beyond engineering — it is about rebuilding regional peace and renewing the ancient Silk Road’s legacy, linking North to South and East to West, just like the BRI aims to do.
China’s Belt and Road Initiative isn’t only a development plan — it’s also a message: that prosperity, peace, and cooperation are achievable when nations recognize shared interests and mutual heritage.
China’s investments and partnerships with dozens of countries have not just connected economies — they have encouraged a new kind of global thinking: not competitive, but collaborative. That’s the kind of thinking we, as journalists, must amplify.
I am a young journalist from a small country — Armenia. And maybe it is this “smallness” that drives me to believe even more deeply in the power of storytelling and dialogue.
When you are from a small place, you want to speak louder. You want to share what you know, how you live, and why your stories matter. You want to listen, too — to learn from others whose traditions differ, whose challenges may resemble yours in unexpected ways.
And maybe that’s what brought us all together in Jiangxi: this shared hunger to speak, listen, and connect.
Here I met the independent reporter from Kazakhstan, the sports journalist from Gambia, the media manager from Laos… We came from distant lands, but found ourselves drinking the same tea, laughing at the same jokes, struggling with the same bus schedule — and telling our countries’ stories to one another.
That, to me, is the real success of Belt and Road: it moves people before it moves goods.
In a fragmented world, we must not fear differences — we must learn from them. Our cultures are not in competition. They are in conversation.
We journalists are not just messengers. We are the architects of understanding, the weavers of shared narratives. And in the hands of those who care to tell them honestly, stories are more than information — they are bridges.
Let us be the bridge builders.
*The views and opinions expressed in the articles are solely those of the individual authors and do not reflect the position of the Secretariat of the Belt and Road Journalist Network.