| The
second event was very important in the discovery of my style and the
artistic forms I use.
Irfan found
a room for me in the street where he lived with his parents. I often
went to his home. We did school work together, drew and I often ate
with him and his family whom I loved very much. This helped me enormously.
Financial difficulties had made me lose 7 kilos since my arrival.
Though
I tried to generate a little income by etching verses from the Koran
on bits of glass and selling them in the markets after school, the
going was always difficult. |
| The
room that Irfan had found for me was smaller than my first room by
the tracks. The landlord of the little building lived on the upper
floor with his wife and two children and I occupied a space no larger
than 6 square meters on the ground floor. There was a bedstead of
earth and brick in one corner and the door wouldn't even close. It
didn't matter; I had nothing to steal. I accepted the proposal in
order to be near Irfan and his family. The street on which they lived
was called
"Cinler Mahallesi"
in Turkish or "Devil's
Street". My landlord was
a violinist who made his living playing for occasions of all sorts
and in the bars in town. He often came home drunk. His wife was a
saint, a person I will never forget, a woman of extreme kindness who
made me feel less alone. |
 |
Her alcoholic
husband beat her often on his return from work. I, too, was the object
of violence from my musical landlord. On many an occasion, I would
see his enormous form in my doorway, a stick in his hand profiled
against the light coming from the street. He would fall upon me and
beat me until his wife would come down and drew his violent intentions
to herself and her children. How may times
would I see her face covered with blood! The more I saw the dramas
that unfolded in that house, the more I felt obliged to stay to do
my part for the poor woman. |
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