June 2, 2012

A Life in Ruins


DIY telephone pole with ancient stones
When I was a kid, I used to spend  summers camping with my parents in Fethiye. A Mediterranean town in Muğla -and not as touristic as it is now-, Fethiye was a field of exploration for us. Ruins of ancient Greek cities lay untouched, whether deep in the turquoise waters of Mediterranean or scattered around the neighboring villages of Fethiye. Years later as a college student, I went to Fethiye again. I was walking in downtown to reminisce about my childhood when I spotted something odd, something that froze me and made my jaw drop. Right in the middle of this coastal town, there stood a 2000-years old Greek amphitheater, freshly-excavated and ready for its next show. As I wondered how on earth this theater could stay intact and uncovered for all these millenniums, I noticed that the arch of its last seating row was in perfect alignment with the houses behind it. Clearly, the occupants of these houses had "no idea" that they had the bleacher seats right in their bedroom.

Room with a view: Rent before it is underwater!
Over the years, stories like this filled up my memory and camera during my travels in Turkey. As houses were built, subways were dug, dams were constructed, Turks grew tired of uncovering -and covering up- ancient city of this, prehistoric village of that, Byzantium cave churches right, and Roman baths left. I remember a friend of mine (then an archeology PhD student at Harvard) shrugging his shoulders when the world rushed in to document the unveiling of Roman mosaics at the ancient city Zeugma. Archeologists there were racing against the looters to dig out as much as possible before Birecik Dam's water levels threatened to rise. As many of us watched the countdown holding breaths, my friend shamelessly said ".. man, one less mosaic is not a big deal, dig your own garden and you will find one."   I understand building a dam and bringing water is essential for the development of a region. But the attitude against our cultural heritage -starting with the educated- desperately needs to change.


Mosque and stork will soon migrate
In Mardin, the situation is no different. Locals build their houses on ancient cisterns and recycle the stones from a nearby antique city. A family in Hasankeyf resists to move out of their house (I don't blame them) built on the remains of the Artuquid Bridge (see above pic). And the government can do nothing about it as the residents hold a legitimate title of the land. It may seem perfectly fine to reuse these stones or to renovate the space for your own needs since these people are basically being practical. Why go anywhere else when these abandoned cities built near the water offer so much, right? It would have been nice though, if people gave a little more respect to cultural heritage without discrimination. The El-Rızk Mosque in Hasankeyf, for instance, will be carried by the government to another site to protect it from the rising waters of Ilıca Dam. But the Artuquid Bridge that exhibits itself on every Hasankeyf postcard will be left to its faith, along with the family that lives inside.


Students and security at Medrese's cafe
There are also some good things going on for the sake of protection of cultural heritage. Malabadi Köprüsü (Malabadi Bridge) at the gate of Batman Dam is under construction by a fund from the government. Most of the Greek/Roman amphitheaters are restored to their original condition and can host concerts, plays and even dance shows. Recently, Artuklu University of Mardin started purchasing some of the ancient buildings in the old city of Mardin. Their purpose is to renovate these buildings and turn them into institutes as part of the university. The "exploitation" causes a dismay among some foreign scholars, but it is a very smart move if you ask me. Zinciriye Medrese, a 14th century Artuquid building used for teaching Islamic theology, is now "Institute of Living Languages in Turkey", the only one of its kind. There is a little fountain inside this amazing medrese where everyone stops by to take a picture of themselves reflected in. This fountain not only adds to the aesthetics of the building -which already has a spectacular view of Mardin Valley-, but also acts as a sound barrier between classrooms. Students -from all cultures- take a lunch break at the "cafe" as tourists quietly stroll in their school. Can you think of a better way of "recycling" an ancient building?


Note: For more pictures of how locals reclaim our culture heritage, click here.

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