Hasankeyf, In and Around

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  Hasankeyf, Batman, Turkey
Tuesday, May 13, 2008

I was in the midst of writing an email message when the hotel desk clerk phoned to say that I had ten minutes to check out (at 10:00am). Fortunately I had been packing while waiting for hotmail to upload a photograph. Well, that call speeded things up, at the expense of the email.



Out on the street the Turkish Travel Pixies had also gotten an early start, for when I got to the dolmus stand I had just set my pack down and turnned around when the mini-bus to Hasankeyf pulled up.



At Hasankeyf I let myself into the room I had been shown the day before as nobody was about. Then I crossed the bridge to the north side, and headed up into the hills. They look pretty formidable, but my experience has taught me that there is a sort of aerial perspective at work and such hills can seem higher and farther away than they really are.



And such was the case. The ground was open, if rocky, but there was plenty of easy stepping. With only one about fifteen minute break I was on the top in a little less than two and a half hours, and without having broken much of a sweat, nor gotten especially winded.



I cruised around up there for a little bit, finding, much to my surprise a couple of abandoned oil pump platforms, and another couple of working ones about a half-mile away. I had my "lunch" of cookies and pistachio nuts, then headed down.



From the top I thought I could see a path, or bits of paths, so I headed for that. It worked, and turnned out to be a fairly easy walk down, picking up bits of paths--which I have begun to call "goat wisdom." Halfway down I looked over to the east slope I had ascended and was rather surprised myself at its length and angle.

Hasankeyf Overview

And, despite the ease and speed that the descent seemed, it still took me about two hours.



At the motel I took a little nap. When I got up I looked up the Turkish word for towel, then went across the street and bought one for the shower to come next. As basic as this place is, there was nice hot water. But then I discovered that while I had brought clean underwear to the shower room, I had left the new towel in my room!



Next out for some dinner. I went back down to the river. When I got near the entrance to the cave like restaurant that was my objective a bunch of guys were out there--"Hello. Welcome, my friend," kind of thing, which I don't especially care for, so I just continued walking on past. There was something I wanted to see along the way anyway.



Coincidentally, there was a group of university students from Batman that I sort of got mixed in with. However, they stopped to have a picnic or something, and I continued on.



But only for about another 40 meters before one of them caught up with me and bid me to come back and join them, which I did. A mixed pile of candied nuts, raw nuts and sunflower seeds was piled and everyone was dipping into it.



Then the barage of usual questions, starting with, as always, "Where are you from?" It wasn't too long before the resident English-speaker was summoned, a girl from Istanbul, who served as a pretty good translator. When I say I am from America that has evoked a nearly 100% approval.

The Original Rototiller

In fact, I can't really recall any thing other than that. Often I will amend that with my very uncomplimentary opinion of George Bush, to which I also universally get smiles, laughs and sometimes vigorous handshakes. However, in this area I have been more circumspect. This is Kurdish country. The Bush administration has recently assisted the Turkish military in some actions against the Kurdish PKK in northern Iraq. A couple of Kurds that I have asked have not had favorable comments toward the PKK, a Kurdish separatist movement. Nevertheless, I'm being a little more cautious in this area with regard to my attitude of George Bush.



(But, for the record, I was just ammending my statement of Americanism by saying, "Ama, Bush piç." For anyone interested there is a great on-line Turkish-English dictonary at:



http://www.zargan.com/sozluk.asp?Sozcuk=pi%E7&DisplayLang=2



The question of Kurdishness, however, did come up. I said I couldn't tell the difference: Turk and Kurd were just words to me; we are all just people. One student thereupon paid me the youthful compliment to an elder: he took my hand and kissed the back of it, then touched his forehead to the spot he kissed. (Later, he, or another, gave me a little ring of "worry beads." And after a short time flipping those the translator gal told me I should do so with my right hand. (But I've since seen them in both right and left hands).



We parted in good cheer in front of the cave restaurant, into which I went for a fairly duplicate fish meal as on the evening before.

The Hills to Climb

Only toward the end of my meal I was joined by perhaps the only other foreigner in the town on this Monday, Marco, a Swiss free-lance photo journalist. He is here to make a photo-essay on the town and its people.



Hasankeyf is under some threat of flooding from a downriver dam project. Though I haven't gotten a fix on the status of that, as it seems to be in somewhat of an uncertain status on account of the flooding threat to Hasankeyf, its archaeological and historic heritage, of course the present occupying inhabitants, and the threat to wildlife, especially, it seems, birds, which nest in the towering sandstone cliffs on the southern bank of the Tigris hereabout.



(Reflecting later I note that whatever the future of Hasankeyf, the threat has seemingly so far preserved it in a unique circumstance for Turkey. While the locals may suffer for it, no one has wanted to invest in the area. Hence, Hasankeyf has none of the unsightly, concrete shells and ugly finished apartment blocks that plague the Turkish landscape nearly everywhere else. As such, it's a nearly pristine landscape. No wonder I liked it so well).



And, speaking of birds, on my asent of the hills yesterday I saw two of the most beautiful birds I have ever seen. But only for about a half second (which is why I am not a bird-watcher. I like my aesthetic experiences to be in a contemplative mode). But these birds--at least the one I fixed on for that half sencond: a sharp, pointed black beak and face; the topside of a brilliant aqua green-blue, and the underside of the wings (and body?) a brilliant yellow orange!

Post your own travel photos for friends and family More Pictures

Looking Back to Hasankeyf	That's the Ridge I Walked Up	With Students: A Good Bunch from Batman	A Fish Meal on the Bank of the Tigris River

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