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Nomades
(KÖÇERLER)
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My father
was friendly with the "KÖÇERLER"
(les nomades) They were welcome
to pitch their tents in one of our fields while we lived in
Hirit. In order to settle for a short period of time these
itinerate shepherds would pay a modest rent in cheese, wool
and mutton to their farmer host. On the whole, they were a
very peaceful lot and my father liked having them around.
One of my uncles was not as conciliatory as my father towards
the nomads and he wanted to evict a group one day from a field
that bordered on his. Several armed men accompanied him and
in the ensuing ruckus a shot was fired, seriously wounding
the nomad chief's closest friend. The nomad's were furious
and my uncle was taken as hostage at gunpoint; if the nomad
died he would die in turn. As the men of our family and neighbors
went to get reinforcements, the nomads pulled up stakes and
disappeared into the mountains, leaving my poor, rash uncle's
mutilated body in the place of their camp. This is precisely
the justice that reigns in the hinterlands of Turkey. An eye
for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. It is for a similar reason
that my family and I had to emigrate from our native village
and become, in our turn, nomads. |
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