Tokat overwhelmed me with a sweet but also strange melancholy. It was surrounded by small hills and mountains with undergrowth.
Around you, there was a battery of ruins and old manor houses that gave you the impression that even though they were inhabited, many years had passed since they opened their door to a guest. I laid my eyes towards the North. For a moment I felt inside me the cries of the Pontiums, a greek ancient race that had lived in that area several years before. I heard the songs and their lamentations, the love and war poems. I was one more time deeply moved, despite my will.
Tokat lured me towards its little markets and its narrow alleys. Suddenly, I felt lucky that I was in this quaint city. I felt almost sure that the average visitor wouldn’t find anything remarkable here, but I felt a comforting gust of hospitality and warmth. I knew that in those fierce and defensive eyes of the young Turkish girl who washed her clothes in the yard, hid a wonderful and hospitable person. But you should prove that were worth her trust. And that was completely understandable.
I took an alley amongst headdresses and towels. Nearby, there were old textiles and ancient knitting machines. My steps drove me to an old coffee house. I stopped to drink a coffee. The euphoria inside me was still vivid. The coffee house was almost empty and someone could see only a few, prudent in fingers, patrons that talked whispering to one another.
I focused my eyes towards the opposite side of the small square. Somewhere between blue ropes hanging and hoops, a weird man sat. He had fixed his eyes towards one direction but noone could say precisely what he was staring at. I took a few steps towards him and stood almost in front of him. He told me: “Sit, I’ve been expecting you”. My surprise was big and a small laughter slipped off my lips. “What do you mean you ‘ve been expecting me?” “There are a bunch like you”, he answered with a steady voice. “Like me?” “Yes…you that leave alone. You that your soul is thirsty to become a whole part”. The old man grabbed my hand and took a good look at the palm of my hand.
“I’m able to see…You’re going to die in a few days…but your death won’t be like you expect it to. You will have an only and last gift. You ‘ll have an only and last trip. That’s the way it is… because gods have decided that you die wiser”.
Insanity and endeavor to understand what he was trying to say by the few Turkish I knew, struggled inside me. I stood up scared and ran with all my strength towards my hotel. It can’t be… nonsense… I must have misunderstood what he had said…
Around you, there was a battery of ruins and old manor houses that gave you the impression that even though they were inhabited, many years had passed since they opened their door to a guest. I laid my eyes towards the North. For a moment I felt inside me the cries of the Pontiums, a greek ancient race that had lived in that area several years before. I heard the songs and their lamentations, the love and war poems. I was one more time deeply moved, despite my will.
Tokat lured me towards its little markets and its narrow alleys. Suddenly, I felt lucky that I was in this quaint city. I felt almost sure that the average visitor wouldn’t find anything remarkable here, but I felt a comforting gust of hospitality and warmth. I knew that in those fierce and defensive eyes of the young Turkish girl who washed her clothes in the yard, hid a wonderful and hospitable person. But you should prove that were worth her trust. And that was completely understandable.
I took an alley amongst headdresses and towels. Nearby, there were old textiles and ancient knitting machines. My steps drove me to an old coffee house. I stopped to drink a coffee. The euphoria inside me was still vivid. The coffee house was almost empty and someone could see only a few, prudent in fingers, patrons that talked whispering to one another.
I focused my eyes towards the opposite side of the small square. Somewhere between blue ropes hanging and hoops, a weird man sat. He had fixed his eyes towards one direction but noone could say precisely what he was staring at. I took a few steps towards him and stood almost in front of him. He told me: “Sit, I’ve been expecting you”. My surprise was big and a small laughter slipped off my lips. “What do you mean you ‘ve been expecting me?” “There are a bunch like you”, he answered with a steady voice. “Like me?” “Yes…you that leave alone. You that your soul is thirsty to become a whole part”. The old man grabbed my hand and took a good look at the palm of my hand.
“I’m able to see…You’re going to die in a few days…but your death won’t be like you expect it to. You will have an only and last gift. You ‘ll have an only and last trip. That’s the way it is… because gods have decided that you die wiser”.
Insanity and endeavor to understand what he was trying to say by the few Turkish I knew, struggled inside me. I stood up scared and ran with all my strength towards my hotel. It can’t be… nonsense… I must have misunderstood what he had said…
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