Fragments on the border

5 days have passed since the last page of the diary. The first part of the journey was almost completed, the second part was about to begin. On July 27 we went to Imranlı, rather: in a small village on the mountains called "Karataş" (black stone) almost 2 thousand meters above sea level. In fact, we wore all that we had to resist the cold. We were in an area of Turkey where is a strong minority of Alevi, from where a large number of people have emigrated in the past decades mainly to Germany. Often, to escape poverty, most often to escape a repressive and unbearable social conflict. The Alevi seem to bring the guilt of not being "enough" Muslims and even the reputation of being refractory to any coercive power.
On 28 we got up at dawn to take the sheep out to pasture after a night passed under thick blankets. In the day Fabrizio and I left Tunc who flew to Istanbul. We continued by bus to Malatya and finally Diyarbakır where we met two other traveling companions: Aygül arrived from Mersin, and Ulus from Istanbul. For us in a few hours there was a bump of 1500 meters of altitude and about 25 degrees in temperature.
Rented a car we left for Mardin where we accommodate the night of 29. What about this magical city? A terrace at the end of the world, a ridge of houses and narrow streets perched on a plateau that slips into Syria and disappears out on the horizon between gusts of desert sand. Mardin which speaks Turkish, Arabic and Kurdish, with churches and minarets, the madrassas and the premises of patriarchates. Mardin, an outpost on the border of the desert, swept by the wind.
On the 30th we reached the last stage of our trip: Hasankeyf. What about this place? A village inside a furrow dug by the river Tigris, thousands of years old, with rock walls with house caves inhabited until recently. Two pillars of an old bridge felt down in the middle of the river that makes the atmosphere if possible even more mysterious. Finally, on the village since decades hangs a project that would like the entire area submerged by water due to a dam that the turkish government would build. The project seems ready, but nothing is decided yet.
This was also the last set for the shooting. A beautiful Aygül embellished this very good thing that we started with Fabrizio from Konya. We are very satisfied.
Now I am in Diyarbakır alone for a few meetings in town. All the others are back home. Fabrizio and Ulus to Istanbul, Aygül to Mersin. I have the voices and faces of all the people encountered along the way that run around me at the moment, do not leave me alone but at the same time I do feel a sense of loneliness. Every moment, expectations, departures, arrivals, astonishment, amazement, joy.
Each trip finally brings a sense of loneliness but also a certainty that nothing will be as before.
Here above our route. In green by bus. In blue by train. In yellow by car. Konya, Göreme, Sivas, Imranlı, Diyarbakır, Mardin, Hasankeyf.
Here above with the sheeps in Imranlı.
Here above the lake around Erzincan from the bus on the road to Diyarbakır.
Here above in Diyarbakır waiting for Ulus.
Here above the magic of Mardin at the door of the desert.
Here above finally Hasankeyf.
Here above Fabrizio in the medical coverage in Hasankeyf. To travel is also meeting some local bacteria. The important is not to lose the smile: never!
What about our terrace on the Tigris for 10 € per night?
And what about our nights dancing kurdish music with the local friends eating on the palafittes on the waters of the Tigris?

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