CHAPTER 7 – ERGENEKON
226
sürü tufeyli unsurlarla dolu ruhunu ne kadar merhametsizce ne kadar
cezaret ve metanetle temizlemeye mecburdur.
O gençlik ki, Anadolu halkının duygularına ve heyecanlarına katılmak
şöyle dursun, hatta Anadolu yollarında, başbayağı bir gezici olarak,
yaylı arabalarda dolaşırken bile derin bir ıstıraba yakalanıyor ve
kendisini bir köyün tezek yanıkları kokan bir hanında cismani
işkencelerin en müthişini çeken bir mahkûm sanıyor.
My God, there are people here who still talk to you about Switzerland!
Our mentality to compare ourselves continuously with Europe has spread
here. But I had come to this ruined motherland in order to forget
anything related to Europe. But from now on I understand that it is not
possible to fulfil this desire of mine. In spite of everything we carry this
world inside us and in our brains. We look at our own possessions, at our
own people and at our landscapes always behind it. Sitting in the spring
cart sometimes cross legged sometimes kneeling and sometimes
stretching out, I watch all the mountains, the valleys, the plains and the
yaylas we pass with so much difficulty like someone who looks at some
exotic pictures sketched and coloured by a human hand. Is it not possible
to mix my blood with these dry clear waters flowing from the mountains,
to take from these valleys my soul’s depths and scatter the whole of my
existence in these plains and in these yaylas? No way!
Far from being able to absorb Anatolia from its appearance or feel it in
our bosom, it cannot be possible even to see and learn the essence of this
blessed people.
We find it very difficult to mix with these people who but with small
stylistic differences speak our language and have our own religion and
are from our own kind.
We find all their behaviour strange. We discover characteristics in the
way they talk and think which cause our mockery, our pity or
astonishment. In short there always exists one Anatolia and we exist
beside it. There is no doubt that they too look at us in the same way.
Who knows how strange they find us too? How complicated our accent
and how broken our manners and our behaviour, how crippled our
thoughts and how wrong our words must be to them. There is a way of
dressing, a way of walking and a way of talking dictated by Anatolia, as
there is a mentality special to it. They do not look at the world in the
same way as we do. In every step of mine I feel how deep the gap which
separates us from them is. I wonder, is it possible for them to fit with us
and us to fit with them? But before I understand this, it is necessary to
perceive and know which one of us is on the right path.
Because of a bedbug assault on the night we spent in Çankırı I started
wandering in the streets of the town. It was a night of Ramadan when
everybody was sitting either at the coffee houses waiting for the
sahur
[meal taken at the start of day’s fasting during Ramazan] or at tekkes
reciting praises of God. The voices of the muezzins from all the mosques
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