Reminiscence from Anatolia- Part Seventeen: On Greeks and Turks, and on Humans
While moving towards Derinkuyu underground city from Goreme Panorama point, we came across a tri-junction… to go to Derinkuyu, we were supposed to move left… the right side road went to Aksaray… and in-front I could see a beautiful vantage of Mount Hassan.
It was cloudy, and the sun was peeping through the clouds every now and then… blessing Mount Hassan with its benevolent rays… it was an ethereal sight… I asked Esraa, if we could stop and I can take a few photographs… she stopped the vehicle… told me that Mount Hassan was less than 3 kilometers from the spot… and in summer-time, one can actually hike all the way up… in a three day trek.
While clicking Mount Hassan and hide-and-seek playing sun… I realized why our forefathers worshipped Sun… the ancient civilizations were mesmerized by Sun… which bestowed them with life… the Egyptian, the Aryans, the Pagans… all worshipped Sun. Today, when we have learnt all the mysteries of it, we find it common-place, in the same league (or the bottom of it) as millions of stars all over the universe… but before these mysteries were solved, Sun had God-like proportions.
When I came out of Derinkuyu, I saw a desolate Greek Orthodox standing forlorn at a distance… I asked Esraa if she could wait for a while… till I check out that church… she said OK… I ran towards the Chruch, wondering if I can take a look inside it… the gate was locked… and it appeared that no one used the place any more, not even open it for maintenance purposes.
Nearby, I saw an old man sitting on a chair, under a tree… I beckoned him and pointed towards the church… wondering if I can go inside… he said something in Turkish and then waived his hands… as if he was saying no-body opens it anymore. He must have been in his early 80s… his wrinkles told me that he has witnessed the harrowing events of Greek-Turkish population exchange when he was an infant.
Greek and Turks used to live in the areas of Turkey and Greek Islands… all over the Agean Sea (as also some parts of mainland Greece) for centuries, together… there were, at times, minor tensions between the two- but never reached a flash-point… however, a few years after the humiliating defeat of Turkey in First World War and rise of Turkish nationalism… tensions between the two communities started rising… leading to the Greek-Turkish war from 1919 to 1922. Greece, left in a lurch by its European allies, succumbed to a humiliating defeat and a treaty was signed between the two parties… which led to a massive population transfer of Greeks in Turkey and Turks in Greece… largely on the basis of religion…
This was one of the first massive population exchange in the world… the biggest of them was in India and Pakistan in 1947. It is a numbing feeling.
A few years ago, while I was in Cyprus… I went to Northern Cyprus for a day with a Greek driver… he took me to a small village and told me that he was born over here… until the war between the Greeks and Turks forced him to leave North Cyprus and migrate to South. There are millions such stories in India, Pakistan, Bangladesh… and many other places… we still live in a world… where religion defines person’s identity and acceptability… and I fear, that this phenomena is not receding but in on the rise.
Our next stop was Ilhara Valley, while going towards it we came across a number of small Cappadocian villages… perhaps, Esraa could read the rumblings inside me, she pointed out a number of dilapidated and deserted churches… she told that in Cappadocia, a vibrant Greek Orthodox community used to live… replaced, all by Turks- including herself… she lamented that though we show people this place like it belonged to our ancestors… the truth is that the heirs of this place are long gone… Turks after all came in Turkey only in medieval ages…
I asked if she feels that the population exchange was futile… she said she was not sure… but almost prophetically said- people would have found some other reasons to fight… how true! The basic bond between humans is that of faith and respect… and when that is gone- issues crop up… issues are symptoms… you solve one, other would crop up… almost unendingly…
We reached Ilhara Valley at around 12… Ilhara is a river gorge… along the cliffs of the gorge; the early Christians made dwelling caves… Cappadocia was a dry place… and the effort was to somehow live near water sources… whatever be the discomforts… Esraa told us- that Ilhara Valley trek is almost 12 kilometers long… but that we would do only do a 4 kilometer stretch till Belisirma… and there, amidst the surrounding, would be treated with a sumptuous lunch.
One needs to go down and down the staircase to the bottom of the valley to start the trek… on my way down; I came across a few cave churches… with beautiful frescoes… still very evident after thousands of years. Esraa told me that these colorful frescoes were made with natural dyes… human-consciousness always had one language…Egypt, India or Turkey… our forefathers used similar elements to express themselves… even the language- people use the same syntax… a noun a verb to express their basic thoughts… a verse in Quran mentions- that God taught human being the names… indicating that the language of humans has always been the same… the sounds differ, the language doesn’t.
Ilhara is a magical place… you trek along a river… a mountain brook… among the woods… and occasionally you lift your head and look at the edges of the cliff- a cave here and a church there… wondering how could our forefathers make a dwelling place in such difficult areas… I was mesmerized by the beauty of the place… and started remembering the beautiful treks of the yesteryears, in the Himalayas…
I promised that I would come again to this place… and trek all of 12 kilometers… and may other treks, which have been left untreaded this time on.
My thoughts were broken by a call… “ Izzayak”… I looked around and saw the same Egyptian couple that I had met at Haga Sofia in Istanbul a few days ago.
It was cloudy, and the sun was peeping through the clouds every now and then… blessing Mount Hassan with its benevolent rays… it was an ethereal sight… I asked Esraa, if we could stop and I can take a few photographs… she stopped the vehicle… told me that Mount Hassan was less than 3 kilometers from the spot… and in summer-time, one can actually hike all the way up… in a three day trek.
While clicking Mount Hassan and hide-and-seek playing sun… I realized why our forefathers worshipped Sun… the ancient civilizations were mesmerized by Sun… which bestowed them with life… the Egyptian, the Aryans, the Pagans… all worshipped Sun. Today, when we have learnt all the mysteries of it, we find it common-place, in the same league (or the bottom of it) as millions of stars all over the universe… but before these mysteries were solved, Sun had God-like proportions.
When I came out of Derinkuyu, I saw a desolate Greek Orthodox standing forlorn at a distance… I asked Esraa if she could wait for a while… till I check out that church… she said OK… I ran towards the Chruch, wondering if I can take a look inside it… the gate was locked… and it appeared that no one used the place any more, not even open it for maintenance purposes.
Nearby, I saw an old man sitting on a chair, under a tree… I beckoned him and pointed towards the church… wondering if I can go inside… he said something in Turkish and then waived his hands… as if he was saying no-body opens it anymore. He must have been in his early 80s… his wrinkles told me that he has witnessed the harrowing events of Greek-Turkish population exchange when he was an infant.
Greek and Turks used to live in the areas of Turkey and Greek Islands… all over the Agean Sea (as also some parts of mainland Greece) for centuries, together… there were, at times, minor tensions between the two- but never reached a flash-point… however, a few years after the humiliating defeat of Turkey in First World War and rise of Turkish nationalism… tensions between the two communities started rising… leading to the Greek-Turkish war from 1919 to 1922. Greece, left in a lurch by its European allies, succumbed to a humiliating defeat and a treaty was signed between the two parties… which led to a massive population transfer of Greeks in Turkey and Turks in Greece… largely on the basis of religion…
This was one of the first massive population exchange in the world… the biggest of them was in India and Pakistan in 1947. It is a numbing feeling.
A few years ago, while I was in Cyprus… I went to Northern Cyprus for a day with a Greek driver… he took me to a small village and told me that he was born over here… until the war between the Greeks and Turks forced him to leave North Cyprus and migrate to South. There are millions such stories in India, Pakistan, Bangladesh… and many other places… we still live in a world… where religion defines person’s identity and acceptability… and I fear, that this phenomena is not receding but in on the rise.
Our next stop was Ilhara Valley, while going towards it we came across a number of small Cappadocian villages… perhaps, Esraa could read the rumblings inside me, she pointed out a number of dilapidated and deserted churches… she told that in Cappadocia, a vibrant Greek Orthodox community used to live… replaced, all by Turks- including herself… she lamented that though we show people this place like it belonged to our ancestors… the truth is that the heirs of this place are long gone… Turks after all came in Turkey only in medieval ages…
I asked if she feels that the population exchange was futile… she said she was not sure… but almost prophetically said- people would have found some other reasons to fight… how true! The basic bond between humans is that of faith and respect… and when that is gone- issues crop up… issues are symptoms… you solve one, other would crop up… almost unendingly…
We reached Ilhara Valley at around 12… Ilhara is a river gorge… along the cliffs of the gorge; the early Christians made dwelling caves… Cappadocia was a dry place… and the effort was to somehow live near water sources… whatever be the discomforts… Esraa told us- that Ilhara Valley trek is almost 12 kilometers long… but that we would do only do a 4 kilometer stretch till Belisirma… and there, amidst the surrounding, would be treated with a sumptuous lunch.
One needs to go down and down the staircase to the bottom of the valley to start the trek… on my way down; I came across a few cave churches… with beautiful frescoes… still very evident after thousands of years. Esraa told me that these colorful frescoes were made with natural dyes… human-consciousness always had one language…Egypt, India or Turkey… our forefathers used similar elements to express themselves… even the language- people use the same syntax… a noun a verb to express their basic thoughts… a verse in Quran mentions- that God taught human being the names… indicating that the language of humans has always been the same… the sounds differ, the language doesn’t.
Ilhara is a magical place… you trek along a river… a mountain brook… among the woods… and occasionally you lift your head and look at the edges of the cliff- a cave here and a church there… wondering how could our forefathers make a dwelling place in such difficult areas… I was mesmerized by the beauty of the place… and started remembering the beautiful treks of the yesteryears, in the Himalayas…
I promised that I would come again to this place… and trek all of 12 kilometers… and may other treks, which have been left untreaded this time on.
My thoughts were broken by a call… “ Izzayak”… I looked around and saw the same Egyptian couple that I had met at Haga Sofia in Istanbul a few days ago.
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