Reminiscence from Anatolia- Part Twenty One: Road to Diyarbakir
Early morning, I woke up at 5 am… I went out for a walk for one last time before leaving Karadut… the beauty of Karadut could be compared to a Himalayan village… pure and sublime. I had an eyeful… of early morning, the whiff of fog, farmers tilling their field and mosque’s call… in this wilderness… I couldn’t help noticing that the prayer-calls are so blessed a sound… it brings so much of serenity.
By 6 am it was time to move… Aly had told me that the first ferry from Siveric to the other side comes at 6:30 am and leaves at 7 am… accordingly; I had packed my bags in the night itself… I had a quick breakfast… and was on my way to Siveric
The drive to ferry point… like any other drive in the area is extremely scenic… from a distance you start seeing majestic views of Euphrates… the mighty river, which gives life to a region- which otherwise would have been a dry desert.
Aly left me at the ferry point and told me that ferry would come in a few minutes and I can board it for free… I liked the idea… I didn’t want to be guided any more by anybody… and wanted to roam free meet people and if possible talk to them…
The place was full of people… it was a daily chore for many of them… crossing the river… and going to the largest town in the vicinity- Diyarbakir… the lifeline of this region. Eavesdropping into conversations, I could hear the name of this momentous city- again and again… in fact I had been hearing the name of this city, ever since I had expressed my wish to visit the Kurdish region… the Turks detested the city… it was the epicenter of Kurdish rebellion… while Kurds sighed at its mentions… saying the Diyarbakir was so much better than crumbled Greco-Roman sights littered all over the coastal Turkey… and how Turk-dominated governments have not let Diyarbakir achieve its full tourism potential.
Anyway you looked at it… Diyarbakir was the key to understanding Kurdish problem first-hand.
While waiting for the ferry, I tried talking to some of the people… the problem was language… nearly nobody knew English… till I was approached by a bearded man… his first question- Muslim?... I gambled… Yes!.
He showed me a book… Hajj… trying to say that he had just been to Hajj… probably he was a local Maulvi… who lead his group to Hajj… Turkish Maulvis are surprisingly well-dressed, western-looking…
I looked at the book… it was a translation guide… Turkish to Arabic… I started reading the Arabic effortlessly… more effortlessly than the Maulvi… and this won the day for me… I became a sort of celebrity… people start pouring in and shaking hands with me… an Indian, who knew Arabic, must be a very religious person.
I made a few friends during this small ferry journey… but surprisingly… I could understand Kurdish more than I could understand Turkish… there was some strange similarity between Persian and Kurdish… something which I came to realize in Diyarbakir.
The ferry journey was amazingly refreshing… beautiful sceneries… migratory birds… very friendly people… a few days ago in Pamukkale, Sultan had told me… Kurdistan is beautiful… and I’d forget Turkish sights once I am there… he was not too much way off the mark.
On the other side, I saw a well-dressed man waiting for me in a car… I guessed he must be Omar-Alison Tanik’s husband, who assists her in running Nomad Tours.
Omar, too, recognized me almost instantaneously… I was the only person in the ferry who was looking different… like a tourist. A relatively black-complexioned Indian among fair complexioned Kurds.
Omar was not able to talk much in English… he put me in touch with Alison, on phone … who had chalked a perfect program for me… Omar would drive me to Diyarbakir… and leave me in the city… with some packed lunch… and then I was free to explore the city all by myself… for 4-5 hours, and thereafter Omar would meet me at a pre-decided spot, and then drive me to Alison’s house, where I can have a quick coffee before proceeding to Yuvacali village- to stay with Pero and her family… and relish Kurdish hospitality.
The drive to Diyarbakir started unfolding the complexity of Kurdish problem… all along the drive… at regular intervals; I could see Gendarmerie (paramilitary) pickets… stopping all the buses… lining people out and checking all their wares… the whole area appeared to be a war-zone… Omar tried to tell me… I have seen nothing… a few days ago… Army was manning these pickets… and now things are under control… a few kilometers ahead… I saw remains of a charred vehicle… which were torched by the Kurdish rebels… Omar explained- violence has become a never-ending cycle in this region… interrupted by brief periods of peace… where Army lets down its security apparatus and then rebels strike… leading to re-deployment of security forces… Gendarmerie, apparently, represents the peace time.
We started approaching Diyarbakir… it, strangely, at the first sight didn’t appear to be a rebel-dominated town… there were signs of development… Omar told me… the government has, off-late, started developing these areas… a lot of industries have started coming to Diyarbakir and other Kurdish towns… and the government anticipates that the Kurdish youth would get jobs and eventually the Kurdish rebellion would die a natural death. He admitted that of late Turkish government has become development oriented viz. Kurdish region, unlike in the past…
Beyond the veneer of modernity… lied the old citadel of Diyarbakir… and one look at the citadel area… and I gasped… this place is special… indeed very special…
The walls and the ramparts of the citadel were amazingly grand… announcing the historical profundity of Diyarbakir… the citadel was huge… and I could see a sea of people still residing inside the citadel… I smiled… and uttered prophetic words… Aleppo!
By 6 am it was time to move… Aly had told me that the first ferry from Siveric to the other side comes at 6:30 am and leaves at 7 am… accordingly; I had packed my bags in the night itself… I had a quick breakfast… and was on my way to Siveric
The drive to ferry point… like any other drive in the area is extremely scenic… from a distance you start seeing majestic views of Euphrates… the mighty river, which gives life to a region- which otherwise would have been a dry desert.
Aly left me at the ferry point and told me that ferry would come in a few minutes and I can board it for free… I liked the idea… I didn’t want to be guided any more by anybody… and wanted to roam free meet people and if possible talk to them…
The place was full of people… it was a daily chore for many of them… crossing the river… and going to the largest town in the vicinity- Diyarbakir… the lifeline of this region. Eavesdropping into conversations, I could hear the name of this momentous city- again and again… in fact I had been hearing the name of this city, ever since I had expressed my wish to visit the Kurdish region… the Turks detested the city… it was the epicenter of Kurdish rebellion… while Kurds sighed at its mentions… saying the Diyarbakir was so much better than crumbled Greco-Roman sights littered all over the coastal Turkey… and how Turk-dominated governments have not let Diyarbakir achieve its full tourism potential.
Anyway you looked at it… Diyarbakir was the key to understanding Kurdish problem first-hand.
While waiting for the ferry, I tried talking to some of the people… the problem was language… nearly nobody knew English… till I was approached by a bearded man… his first question- Muslim?... I gambled… Yes!.
He showed me a book… Hajj… trying to say that he had just been to Hajj… probably he was a local Maulvi… who lead his group to Hajj… Turkish Maulvis are surprisingly well-dressed, western-looking…
I looked at the book… it was a translation guide… Turkish to Arabic… I started reading the Arabic effortlessly… more effortlessly than the Maulvi… and this won the day for me… I became a sort of celebrity… people start pouring in and shaking hands with me… an Indian, who knew Arabic, must be a very religious person.
I made a few friends during this small ferry journey… but surprisingly… I could understand Kurdish more than I could understand Turkish… there was some strange similarity between Persian and Kurdish… something which I came to realize in Diyarbakir.
The ferry journey was amazingly refreshing… beautiful sceneries… migratory birds… very friendly people… a few days ago in Pamukkale, Sultan had told me… Kurdistan is beautiful… and I’d forget Turkish sights once I am there… he was not too much way off the mark.
On the other side, I saw a well-dressed man waiting for me in a car… I guessed he must be Omar-Alison Tanik’s husband, who assists her in running Nomad Tours.
Omar, too, recognized me almost instantaneously… I was the only person in the ferry who was looking different… like a tourist. A relatively black-complexioned Indian among fair complexioned Kurds.
Omar was not able to talk much in English… he put me in touch with Alison, on phone … who had chalked a perfect program for me… Omar would drive me to Diyarbakir… and leave me in the city… with some packed lunch… and then I was free to explore the city all by myself… for 4-5 hours, and thereafter Omar would meet me at a pre-decided spot, and then drive me to Alison’s house, where I can have a quick coffee before proceeding to Yuvacali village- to stay with Pero and her family… and relish Kurdish hospitality.
The drive to Diyarbakir started unfolding the complexity of Kurdish problem… all along the drive… at regular intervals; I could see Gendarmerie (paramilitary) pickets… stopping all the buses… lining people out and checking all their wares… the whole area appeared to be a war-zone… Omar tried to tell me… I have seen nothing… a few days ago… Army was manning these pickets… and now things are under control… a few kilometers ahead… I saw remains of a charred vehicle… which were torched by the Kurdish rebels… Omar explained- violence has become a never-ending cycle in this region… interrupted by brief periods of peace… where Army lets down its security apparatus and then rebels strike… leading to re-deployment of security forces… Gendarmerie, apparently, represents the peace time.
We started approaching Diyarbakir… it, strangely, at the first sight didn’t appear to be a rebel-dominated town… there were signs of development… Omar told me… the government has, off-late, started developing these areas… a lot of industries have started coming to Diyarbakir and other Kurdish towns… and the government anticipates that the Kurdish youth would get jobs and eventually the Kurdish rebellion would die a natural death. He admitted that of late Turkish government has become development oriented viz. Kurdish region, unlike in the past…
Beyond the veneer of modernity… lied the old citadel of Diyarbakir… and one look at the citadel area… and I gasped… this place is special… indeed very special…
The walls and the ramparts of the citadel were amazingly grand… announcing the historical profundity of Diyarbakir… the citadel was huge… and I could see a sea of people still residing inside the citadel… I smiled… and uttered prophetic words… Aleppo!
2 comments:
Liked your love for other culture and the fact that your Arabic is so good to have earned friends in a foreignland..but was wondering why not to introduce yourself as an Indian Hindu...but a Muslim..any particular reason...like easy acceptibility & no eayebrows raised?
Well... frankly I do not introduce myself as anything... people generally construe me as a Muslim... as I use Muslim way of greeting and expression...
Yes it increases my acceptability and that helps me in making friends.
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