From Mama Jan to Papa Jan, an Israeli-founded Yerevan bar is passed to a Palestinian-Armenian
Regulars crowd around the bar at Mama Jan (Photo by author)
Just off of a major Yerevan street, there is a bar with a long-standing reputation as a center of the local Jewish community. It was, after all, founded by an Israeli who had cultivated a space there where Jews fleeing the Russia-Ukraine war could gather for Hanukkah celebrations and listen to lectures on the Jewish state’s history. But this past spring, the founder passed the keys to her beloved Mama Jan bar to a Palestinian refugee.
“I gave him a very cheap price, not the Jewish way,” Julia Kislev joked with a great laugh. “And he said ‘Yalla.’”
Khoren Nalbandian is the new face behind the counter, though calling him simply a Palestinian refugee only scratches the surface of his multi-faceted identity. Born in Syria and raised in Lebanon, Nalbandian’s lineage traces back to Gaziantep in modern-day Turkey, from which his Armenian ancestors fled a century ago during the genocide. His great-grandparents took refuge in Jerusalem, but when catastrophe hit Palestine, they fled once again to Aleppo.
Inheriting Palestinian refugee status, he was restricted from traveling freely and consequently lived in Beirut illegally. While his friends growing up in the city were visiting Europe and participating in student exchange programs, Nalbandian was not allowed to, causing him to label himself “Bird without wings” on the then-popular MSN Messenger instant-messaging client.
“Everyone else around me was flying and seeing other cultures, but I couldn’t,” Nalbandian said. “So I felt like a bird just like them, only without wings.”
Julia Kislev with Khoren Nalbandian (Photo by author)After eventually moving to Macedonia and spending over a decade there, he managed to obtain citizenship in the Balkan country. From that point on, he lived all over the world, intentionally picking expat-friendly locations with booming economies like the United Arab Emirates, Singapore, Switzerland and Kazakhstan.
“I always kept moving, maybe it’s because of a childhood trauma feeling that one day someone might cut my wings or take them back,” Nalbandian said. “Everywhere I went, I met different nationalities and different people with different backgrounds. The more people you meet, the more you learn about coexistence, how to understand and help each other.”
Though he cherished having the ability to see the world at long last, Nalbandian would ultimately come to realize he wanted to finally settle down. His opportunity came: in 2023, a major Armenia-based information technology company headhunted him for a new sales position. Hearing about how Yerevan had been developing into an international metropolis in recent years, he felt it was the right time to make the move.
An unlikely friendship
One day soon after he settled in Armenia, Nalbandian visited Mama Jan with a friend, who introduced him to Kislev. The two clicked immediately, bonding over their shared love of Lebanese beer and the cosmopolitan culture of Yerevan.
Together, the two hosted themed nights at Mama Jan that merged Lebanese and Russian-Jewish culture. Out of that grew a close-knit friend group that would hang out at each other’s homes or travel outside the city. Such a connection forming may seem unusual, but Nalbandian was not surprised.
Julia Kislev with a Mama Jan regular (Photo by author)“The only thing as a person that I don’t accept is extremism or nationalism. I cannot be a nationalist because I have so many nationalities and identities within me,” said Nalbandian, who obtained his Armenian citizenship last month. “Imagine if I become a nationalist, I’d start having bipolar issues and I would become a danger to myself. So when I met Julia, I simply met an amazing human being, a lovely lady and a professional in her field.”
Passing the torch
Since taking ownership of Mama Jan, Nalbandian has remodeled the interior and is planning a menu overhaul for later this month, pulling from global cuisines to reinforce his proclaimed ethos of “stories without borders.” He is also planning to rename the bar to Papa Jan after regulars joked that “Mama is gone and now Papa is here.”
Kislev, for her part, is excited to see Nalbandian’s take on a space she worked so hard to build. “One of the ideas of this place is that it’s personal,” she said. “It’s not unnamed, it needs a signature.”
Ultimately, both Nalbandian and Kislev share the same vision for what the bar should be all about.
“What I’m trying to do everyday with this business is to create a venue that is a safe space for everyone, from across the world, to come and share their stories,” Nalbandian said. “We can do that here, especially nowadays in Yerevan. It’s a peace crossroad.”

