- By Art-in-Mind
- 28/03/2010
Prepared by Art-in-Mind
I had boycotted visiting undemocratic countries including Anatolia, although I call its Eastern part bakuri nishtimanem, the north of my homeland. Anatolia had recently shown potentials of becoming a democratic country. I was still hesitant to visit this yet to become democracy until I checked with a former parliamentarian who had spent 10 years in jails for speaking Kurdish in parliament. Once she confirmed the country deserves a visit despite its shortcoming, I decided to travel to Anatolia. It was a unique experience thanks to the excellent coordination of a good friend.
On the way to bakuri nishtimanem, I had to stop in few cities. As expected each time the stewardess welcomed the passengers not only in English but also in the language of the cities we were heading to, except on the way to Amed (Diarbakir). I felt extremely unwelcome in the plane that was leaving Istanbul to Amed. I kindly asked a friendly stewardess: bo chi wa zemani ima xirhatentan nakird? She didn’t respond. I assumed she didn’t understand and translated: Why don’t you welcome the guests in our language. Her smiley faced turned to a semi-frowned one and said “the airline’s official language is Turkish and English”. I was about to explain that the mother tongue in Amed is Kurdish. My friend pinched me in order to keep me quiet and let go, and so I let go with a smile on my face and a deep pain in my mind.
The first morning in Istanbul I was frightened by a loud song via a loud speaker at 4:30am. I had forgotten that I was visiting a place where people have to be reminded to prey. Since I was not used to preying, I used my time efficiently, took a shower, checked my emails, and headed to the beautiful harbor city. I was impressed with the rich heritage and the diversity of the people. Among other places, I visited a Kurdish cultural center in the heart of Istanbul. Soon I was disappointed to hear that the landlord has asked the Kurds to move out soon. Somebody argued that the state might have pressured the landlord not to extend the lease. I was ready to scream at the state as loud as possible, but again I let go with a smile on my face and a sorrow in my mind.
The second day I drove along the Tigris River and its majestic grand canyon to visit Hasankyef, an ancient town on the Silk Road. I was expecting to pay an entry to see the remains of the millennium old citadel. It was free, typical of the hospitality of most people in this highland who care less about materialistic values. On the same day I met a group of musicians who invited me to their Newroz concert. It was a remarkable experience. While struggling with meeting their basic needs was obvious on many people’s face and attire, there was a strong sense of dedication and hope in their attitude. Thousands of people were singing along. Many were shouting “bejit Serok Apo”. I found out Apo was the nick name of their Kurdish leader jailed by the Turkish state. I was impressed by the courage of the people and the developing tolerance of the state. I thought if such an event was happening in Turkey of a decade ago or in another current undemocratic country, the police would have opened fire on the public.
I realized Anatolia was gradually heading toward democracy. With eyes full of joyous tears, I hugged one of the most disadvantaged young men who was limping, had broken teethes, and could not speak a word because of being deaf-mute. To show his love for being loved, he extended his neck and I happily kissed his cheeks. An accompanying surprised friend of Jewish-Kurdish origin repeated what I did and kissed the cheeks of the young handicap man. She said she had not seen such a touching sense of humanity in her life. I was about to scream of joy that another person has gained a deeper knowledge of the Kurdish cause, but I let go with a smile on my face and a tear in my eye.
I then attended a reception by the humble and compassionate mayor of Amed and later joined one of the brightest and most peaceful leaders of the Kurdish people, who had assured me Anatolia deserves a visit. She invited me to a dinner with her family in an ancient beautiful guesthouse decorated with handmade rugs and cushions from bakuri nishtimanem. Knowing how much she works for the people, I invited her and her family to be my guest if not for ever at least for a week, so she could take some rest at the land of the free. She decided not to rest until her own land is free. Believing that her land is mine and mine is hers, I hugged her goodbye with a promise to occasionally return to bakuri nishtimanem and do a small share in serving those who might need my help. She welcomed my voluntary offer and put a high value on it. I was about to insist that nothing is of value compare to her dedication, but I let go with a smile on my face and a relief in my mind.
I ended my trip by celebrating Newroz with the people of Amed, the so called capital of Kurdistan. Over a million people had gathered in an open stadium. There was no short coming of music, singing, dancing, and authentic food. People were making clear that they were not satisfied with anything less than what other nations have in term of linguistic, cultural, political, and economical rights. They were singing along the musicians what Newroz meant to them, freedom and equality. I was about to shout the same slogan, but I let go with a smile on my face and a joyous hope in my mind.
