I
had my guitar, my paintings, my suitcase and several plastic bags
filled with country cheese, cracked wheat, etc…
gifts from Tatvan for my brother. After getting off the tram, we
took up all this baggage and walked through the mud and high grass
at the end of the line for nearly twenty minutes. Exhausted, we
climbed a low hill and across the vacant lots that lost themselves
in the gullies and erosion, we spied a few small houses profiled
on the gloomy horizon. The mud was so thick and deep that one could
easily have lost his shoes for good. As we got closer to the dwellings,
a shanty town materialized before my eyes. Children were everywhere
and played in the mud and the refuse as chickens, goats and sheep
looked on. Over 25 families and their many children lived here
in deplorable conditions.
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My brother Halis and his woman
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