Can Cana (Soul to Soul)
Some things take a while to infuse. As the memory of each word, glance, open heartedly welcome and the serenity of sharing silence is so deep and only would come to surface from deep when it is kindly the right time for it. After almost a month on motorbike, we had stopped by Keban Dam and had a lake bath at sunset, surrounded by curving roads up on the hills. After the bath, we drove up to north, to Sivas. We curved up along to valley villages and found ourselves in a little village square beneath grape leaves, facing the green valleys. Murdurra was the name of this small Alevi village. As we enter, a greeting committee of locals warmly welcomed us on a terrace in the center of small village, told their story, how they had to stay hidden, such pressure was on these villages for their belief and ethnicity, the way they make living with coal, how they had to care about any service normally given by state, rural exodus, changing population and characteristics of cem ceremonies in which they met, sang, danced and blessed the goodness of human... And the governmental tryings for changing the real name, Murdurra, as this once was an Armenian village... We spoke and listened for hours, simply, sincerely. Melancholy lies in Anatolia, and some lands are so fragile to touch, I knew. Still, being in the lands of goodness, where true essence is appreciated, seeing with my own eyes that history written by big forces grubbed up the culture, tolerance and warmness; was a clear and sad reality. Hours and hours of speaking, sharing on their table, tasting homemade goat cheese, tasting their special grapes, being accepted to their homes and invited for winter comeback; tied a link between us. I felt we were connected and so then we had a door that would open before us.
Before leaving they hugged us and said ‘’can cana’’ (soul to soul). Driving away from Murdurra, I kept watching the trees on heights, wondering their uniqueness and first time, with a new glance, seeing the soul in them, soul of the land. Cem of souls. And the wind dried my tears of joy.
Each time I think back of them, I feel a dolorous lump in my throat and my stomach aches peacefully for happiness.
