NEWROZ PIROZ BE!!!
Exactly one year ago I was walking around the huge open space, outside of Diyarbakir or Amed as it called by Kurds. It was on Newroz celebration which for Kurds is a very important day during which they not only celebrate the arrival of spring but also raise their voice to manifest their identity and issues. For many hours I wandered around with my camera, talking to people, taking photos, listening to music, watching all this and being truly amazed how so many people can enjoy their time together without any alcohol, drugs, conflict, without security guards, but with music, dance, colours and peace. NEWROZ PIROZ BE!
Snippet of upcomming project from Turkish Kurdistan.
Within the walls of Amed (Diyarbakir) - Suriçi neighbourhood in Amed (Diyarbakır), South-Eastern city of present Turkey.
Diyarbakır, or
Amed - as I'm often told by the Kurds who are the majority not only in the the city itself, but also in the whole region - is a city in the South-East part of present Turkey. Considered as the capital of Kurdistan and the centre of Kurdish resistance it holds also a great historic gem reaching far to antiquity. Up to 12 metres high and 5 metres thick, Its defence walls stretch 100m above the Tigris river and are second largest city walls after the Great Chinese Wall. The area inside the walls can be accessed through four main gates and is called Suriçi (walled city). With population of 71000, Suriçi district is full of little houses and narrow streets where life today seems different from what I've seen before. This 75ha densely populated labyrinth of often cobbled or soil surfaced alleys is full of life where bread is baked on the street, kids shout at you showing symbols of Kurdish resistance, women pick wild plants for dinner and children play in the mud. It is a place where men train their birds to fly, pigeons are sold in the market and small family run tobacco factories bring income for many people. Here the main drink is tea. Brought often illegally from Syria and Iraq it is served to passers by, and as soon as the empty glass is put on the table, someone is holding tea pot to pour me another. Suriçi is also rough, and poverty is present at all times. Being lost with a camera one might think that it's a place where bad things happen. Maybe, but it's also a place where poor people share their foods with you, where Syrian refugees find shelters for their families and when the dawn comes someone takes you to one of the gates, to keep you safe.Cuma - pigeon trainer.
Education and support centre for women and children from families affected by poverty.
Syrian family at the doorstep of their new home.
Tobacco leaves.
One of the houses.
Walls surrounding a primary school.
Newroz - celebration of new year and Kurdish identity.
Newroz (new day) tradition is connected to the myth of Kawa the Blacksmith. On March 21st 612 B.C., Kawa in a heroic deed set the Kurds and other nations free from the hands of Assyrian tyrant Dehak and proclaimed freedom throughout the land by lightning big fire on the mountaintop.
Today Newroz is a celebration of the first day of spring and the arrival of new year but also very important day for Kurdish identity which has been suppressed by Turkish government for many years. Banned completely until 1995 and celebrated openly only since 2005 this day of kurdishness gathers millions of Kurds who compose nearly 20% of the population of Turkey. History of Newroz in Turkey - apart of being the time for celebrating something new and beautiful - has a long list of clashes between police and Kurdish protesters and many victims on both sides. In 2012, March 18th due to disagreement between pro-Kurdish BDP party and Interior Ministry about the date on which celebrations should take place, the city of Diyarbakır considered as Kurdistan's capital, became a stage of clashes between police and protesters in which one person died and many were injured. In 2013, before leaving coastal town of Fethiye in west Turkey I was often warned by Turks and advised not to go for Newroz and felt a lot of negativity being attached to Kurds in the east. I was also warned on the streets of Diyarbakır, warned by the Kurds themselves, and advised to take care of myself. During the festival in 2013 important thing happened, Ocalan's (leader of PKK movement who's now held in prison) letter has been read to people gathered outside Diyarbakır to celebrate. It was a letter calling for ceasefire in a Kurdish-Turkish conflict that was born in the 70's and lead to 40.000 deaths on both sides.
View from the bus taking people to the festival place.
Symbolic fire in Gaziantep where celebrations took place 3 days before the main festival in Diyarbakır.
Poster of Mazlum Doğan - on March 21 1982 (Newroz celebration day) being held in Turkish prison Mazlum set himself on fire in a protest against Turkish government.
Exit road from the festival.
Turkish Kurdistan - journey from Adıyaman to Kars.
ali, kurd from diyarbakır
Wandering
through the streets of some neighborhood made out of low tiny houses we noticed
a man standing on a hill overlooking the Selcuk town. When we reached his level
he was already kneeling, facing qibla in the far away city of Mecca. She stayed
behind…suddenly the sound of adhan from minarets disappeared and the man
bowed for some time with respect to whatever he believed. Almost invisible to
me, hidden between grass and rocks man stood up slowly with his stick. Looking
around over the foggy landscape of Selcuk he put a jacket - on which
he prayed - back on his shoulders. Now with this urban organism beneath his
feet he gazed at the creature. Creature of which veins are pumped with people,
it’s mind occupied with their daily tasks and stomach filled with their emotions
and feelings, the creature in which intestines he also has his place and
probably everyday works, sleeps, eats, shits, maybe fucks, loves, laughs and
laments. He stared for few minutes, turned away and sat on a rock calling in my direction "gel, gel!" After mutual exchange of gestures
and words I know that the man’s name is Ali, Kurd who left his home city Diyarbakır
16 years ago. With his flock of sheep behind him he reached to his pocket for
tobacco. While rolling a cigarette with thick fingers that looked like they
swelled through the ages affected by long and hard work experience of Ali, he showed me the box of tobacco explaining that it also comes from Diyarbakır.
Taking one of his "too dry to smoke" cigarettes I shake his hand again feeling it’s
weight and left Ali sitting on a rock, watching in silence moving scenery of Selcuk town.
