Places I have simply visited have mostly left very little with me and I left very little if anything, behind.
Places I stayed in, working, living, being, are places that become a big part of my life. It is as if a magical string is tying me to the place, making a bond. When I try to see what these strings are made of, I see special moments, memories that leave a warm feeling, and mainly I see people.
Kaçkar has taken a big place in my life and heart for some years, and Kaçkar has always been Mehmet for me. A wild energetic mountain boy, with dark eyes and a warm smile
Places I stayed in, working, living, being, are places that become a big part of my life. It is as if a magical string is tying me to the place, making a bond. When I try to see what these strings are made of, I see special moments, memories that leave a warm feeling, and mainly I see people.
Kaçkar has taken a big place in my life and heart for some years, and Kaçkar has always been Mehmet for me. A wild energetic mountain boy, with dark eyes and a warm smile
When Mehmet hikes up the mountains, it's as if his feet do not touch the ground. He and the mountain peaks are involved in a wild dance which, sometimes, other people are invited to join.
When Mehmet talks with people, it's as if he wraps the world with soft singing, and when he walks the streets of his childhood, the kids look at him in admiration, all wishing to be like him, and the elders look at him with pride. The next generation that will always treasure culture and old traditions
When Mehmet talks with people, it's as if he wraps the world with soft singing, and when he walks the streets of his childhood, the kids look at him in admiration, all wishing to be like him, and the elders look at him with pride. The next generation that will always treasure culture and old traditions
Did he ever know how the world sees him?
In the beginning of January, Mehmet was buried under a huge rock while working on one of the new roads in Kaçkar. It took 2 hours to rescue him from under the rock. It took another 6 to get him to hospital. Mehmet went to sleep, and his family along with the Çamlıhemşin community stopped breathing and started to pray
A week passed.
A month.
To mark 2 months, family and friends gathered in the harsh winter on the Firtina bridge, carrying signs wishing for Mehmet's recovery.
To mark 3 months Mehmet opened his dark eyes and looked at the world through a heavy fog. But it's Mehmet. He could find his way through any fog, sometimes helping others who couldn't handle it. We should trust him that he will navigate his way through this fog, even if it seems to be a tricky one
In the beginning of January, Mehmet was buried under a huge rock while working on one of the new roads in Kaçkar. It took 2 hours to rescue him from under the rock. It took another 6 to get him to hospital. Mehmet went to sleep, and his family along with the Çamlıhemşin community stopped breathing and started to pray
A week passed.
A month.
To mark 2 months, family and friends gathered in the harsh winter on the Firtina bridge, carrying signs wishing for Mehmet's recovery.
To mark 3 months Mehmet opened his dark eyes and looked at the world through a heavy fog. But it's Mehmet. He could find his way through any fog, sometimes helping others who couldn't handle it. We should trust him that he will navigate his way through this fog, even if it seems to be a tricky one
Almost 5 month after the accident I visited Gergeti church in Georgia, under the white peak of Kazbeki on my way to Turkey to visit him at the hospital. A big Georgian family entered the church and gathered to sing their prayers. Georgian singing is known for its many voices and wonderful harmony and their beautiful singing was carried to the peak of Kazbeki, to the clouds and to the one sitting above
.I found myself praying with them
A Jewish girl, in a church, praying for the recovery of a Muslim friend
Photos of Mehmet were running in my mind, jumping from stone to stone like a wild goat, singing the great song of life with a big smile on his face.
If there is a god, I thought, then these great mountain people are now singing for the return of one of their own. Their voices are touching the strings of his decisions and if there is a god then he will have to listen
A Jewish girl, in a church, praying for the recovery of a Muslim friend
Photos of Mehmet were running in my mind, jumping from stone to stone like a wild goat, singing the great song of life with a big smile on his face.
If there is a god, I thought, then these great mountain people are now singing for the return of one of their own. Their voices are touching the strings of his decisions and if there is a god then he will have to listen
