Gallivanting Grandma

Today was quite a day! We stayed at the Sivas Buyuk Hotel last night. Sivas is the largest city in Anatolia with a population of 301,000 people.  The city was named “Sebasteia” in the 1st Century BC to honor the Roman Emperor, Augustus.  It was the capital of “Armenia Minor” under the emperor Diocletion at the end of the 3rd century AD.

View from My Window at Back of the Sivas Buyuk Hotel

Under the Byzantine emperors, Sebasteia was a large and wealthy Anatolian city.  It was located at the junction of the Persia and Bagdad caravan routes and was a busy commercial center from the earliest ages.  The Sekjuk Turks arrived in the late 11th century, renamed the city, Sivas, and ruled until the 1400s.  The Sivas region was then plundered by the Central Asian ruler, Timur (Tamerlane).

Street-side View from the Sivas Buyuk Hotel

In the 19th century there were almost 200,000 Armenian people living in Sivas Province.  The city had a population of about 45,000, with more than one third Armenian inhabitants.  During June and July 1915, most of the Armenians of Sebasteia were either killed or deported.  By the late 1990’s the Armenian population had dwindled to less than 50 people in the province of Sivas.  There is still a scattering of Armenians, mostly elderly, in villages around Sivas.  Many villages also have a few inhabitants who will say that they have Armenian mothers or grandmothers.

Countryside between Sivas and Duzyayla

We drove out of Sivas toward the village of Khorkhon, which is called Duzyayla in Turkish today. Khorkhon is the village in which Roseanne’s and my grandfather, Parnoug Shegerian was born.  He was born and lived in Khorkhon for the first almost 30 years of his life.  His brother, Arakel, went to the United States first, in about 1905, to work.  Parnoug followed his brother and arrived at Ellis Island in 1910, leaving behind a wife and three daughters.  We called my grandfather “Bigbob” because “bob” means ‘grandfather’ in Armenian and he was tall.

Fertile Fields Near Khorokhon (Duzyayla)

Our driver, Selcuk, drove the van out of Sivas onto the main East-West highway heading East toward the town of Hafik.  The main roads are very good, frequently two-lanes in each direction and well paved.  We reached Hafik in about 30 minutes and turned North onto a smaller dirt road.  Selcuk asked for directions to Khorkhon and the man nodded his head and said “Duzyayla” and pointed in the direction we were going.  We drove on a continually narrowing road which soon turned into one lane for both directions.  The road was bumpy and rocky and not paved.  After about 15 minutes, we spotted a sign which read “Duzyayal 4 km”.  My cousins and I jumped out of the car for a photo opportunity.

The Shegerian Descendants of Khorkhon

The land around Khorkhon is all farmlands and grazing land.  There were large wheat fields on both sides of the road and occasional flocks of sheep.  As we approached Khorkhon, it became hilly and greener because of the poplar trees and obvious irigation.  The houses looked colorful and well maintained.  We all got out of the van to walk up the hill and into the village.  I thought about my grandfather and that he had walked up that hill, probably many times, a hundred years ago.

The Road into Khorkhon

As we passed a house, a young attractive woman with a white head-covering approached her fence and asked us in English where we were going.  We said that we were looking for the Armenian church and the homes of our grandparents.

Beyhan and her uncle Ishmael

After a brief conversation, she and her uncle invited us into their home for chai.  We passed through her fence, walked into a beautiful garden of flowers, took off our shoes, and entered their house.

Entrance to Ishmael’s House

The large room was like a reception room, probably a living room, with cushion covered divans running the lengths of three walls. There were decorations on the shelves and a few photos on one wall of the uncle in his youth.

Beyhan in Her Uncle’s Living Room

We sat down and the woman’s uncle, whose name we learned was Ishmael, left the room to prepare the chai.  The woman, whose name was Beyhan, sat opposite us and began to speak with us.  We told her that our grandparents were Armenian and had lived in Khorkhon one hundred years ago and we came to see the village of their birth. We enjoyed a hot cup of Turkish chai and cookies.

Ishmael Showing a Uniform From His Youth

My cousins, Francoise and Nicole discovered that their aunt’s step-son was still alive and lived in Germany.  During the genocide, their aunt was saved from death by a Turkish neighbor who told the Turkish police that she was his wife.  She married the man and stayed in Khorkhon for the rest of her life.

Ishmael’s Wife Joined Us Outside

After our tea, Beyhan and Ishmael said they would show us the ruins of the Armenian church in the village.  When we emerged from the house, an elderly woman was walking down the road.  She greeted us happily and we learned that she was Ishmael’s wife.  She apologised for being late and said she was reading the Koran and praying.

Walking Through the Village of Khorkhon

We then walked through Khorkhon like a group of locals on a Sunday stroll.  The village is very hilly with a wide variety of houses, barns, and farm buildings closely arranged on fenced pieces of land. We passed a small mosque in the middle of the village and a small building across the narrow road for men to wash their feet before entering the mosque.

Then we saw what looked like a large grass-covered stone hillock on the side of the road. We followed Ishmael around and down to the other side and looked at a small stone structure.  There were openings in the building at different levels and the large stones were covered with grass and dried moss.

Outside of the Ruins of the Armenian Church

Chris found an opening and crawled in.  Soon everyone crawled into the ruins of the Armenian church of Khorkhon.  The inside walls were completely stripped of any adornments. Armen, our guide, later said that he thought the church could have been built 700 or 800 years ago, judging by the large stones in the walls.  He said that newer churches were built with smaller stones.

Looking Into the Ancient Church

A huge hole had been dug in the ground where the altar would have been.  Beyhan told us that people had dug up the floor of the church looking for buried treasures. They had heard that before the Armenians left, they buried their valuables in the ground of the church. When I was young, my grandmother told me that her father, who was a parish priest, had buried the chalices, gold crosses, and other altarpieces and valuables of their church in the yard behind their house in Ishan.

Interior of the Armenian Church

Armenian crosses had been carved in the stone of the supporting columns and there were a few inscriptions carved on the walls.  We photographed everything we could and one-by-one crawled back out through the opening.  This was the church in which my grandfather, Parnoug, was baptised, attended services on Sundays and holidays, married his first wife, and baptised his children.  Wow!

Stones with Religious Markings at Exterior of the Armenian Church

Parnoug, (Bigbob) is my and Roseanne’s grandfather.  Parnoug is Chris’s great grandfather.  His brother, Arakel, had one son, Nishan.  Nishan’s granddaughters are Nicole and Francoise.  Nishan was also born in this village in about 1900.  Nicole’s and Francoise’s grandmother, Marta, was also born in Khorkhon.  She married Nishan when she was 16 years old.  They left the village together on foot to escape death at the hands of the Turkish army in 1915 and eventually migrated to Marseille, France.

Walking in Khorkhon

We continued walking around the village looking at the buildings, taking photographs, and I tried to imagine what Big Bob’s life here was like.  It really was a lovely farm village with chickens and cows and sheep.

Another View of the Village

As we walked around more village people joined us.  They were curious about us and tried to talk to us. The longer we stayed, more people came out to see us and more stories and information were revealed.  Finally, one of the men said that there was one Armenian man still living in the village.  He was very old and not well and lived on subsistence and hand-outs from the Turkish villagers.

A Row of Houses in Khorkhon

A small contingent of men went to his house to talk to him.  He did not want to talk to them and didn’t want photographs.

Villagers Talking to Armen

Then he asked the men if there were any women among the group.  When he learned that there were women visitors, he came out to meet us.  Our first glimpse of Ovak Karagoz was of a bent-over aged man slowly walking up the hill with a cane.

Our First Sighting of Ovak

When he first approached the group he was surly and upset.  He put his hand up and repeated several times, “No Photos!” in Turkish.  When he saw us, he sat down slowly on a stone step and began to speak to us in Armenian. Ovak kept asking us if we understood Armenian and did we speak Turkish.  He wanted to speak only to the female cousins.

Ovakim Karagosian

We learned that Ovak was 73 years old, although he looked much older.  His parents and siblings were long gone.  He had lived in the village his entire life and, he said he “had nothing”.  As we spoke to him he consented to photos and wanted photos taken with all the female cousins. This is a real Armenian man who likes women!  We all laughed, including Ovak.

He was mistrustful of the Turkish villagers and said he could talk to us if we could go up to the mountains and sit alone without anyone else around us.  Of course, by now, the entire village was hovering closely around us.  When we asked questions about his life, Ovak repeatedly said we had to go to a private place to talk.  “The villagers could not be trusted.”

All the Cousins With Ovak

We had stayed in Khorkhon for many hours and we had to leave.  We said tearful goodbyes to Ovak and the townspeople gave me his address to send our photos.  We thanked Beyhan and Ishmael for their hospitality and generosity and the opportunity to meet the last Armenian in Khorkhon.

We tearfully boarded the van and drove out of my grandfather’s village…..

The buffet breakfast at the Prissia Hotel was amazing!  It had everything you could ever imagine for a hearty breakfast and then some.  CeeGee took a morning dip in the lovely pool before breakfast.  We ate breakfast together and then packed up and boarded the van to go to Evereg and Fenesse, now called Develi, Turkey.

On the way, we drove past the unusual rock formations of the Cappadocia region, which is known to have one of the most interesting and spectacular landscapes in the world.  The van stopped several times to allow us to take photographs.  The strange shapes are formed by the effect of erosion on different kinds of rocks.

When Christianity came to the region, chapels, churches and monasteries were constructed into the rocks.  There are also a number of historic churches from the Byzantine period.  There are also dwellings carved into the rocks and into the sides of the mountains.  Many of them have been abandoned or condemned by the government and are not inhabited today.

The Goreme National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage site, was established to preserve some of the cave dwellings, capped pinnacles called: fairy chimneys, rock caves, and other unusual rock formations.

Afterwards, we drove to the city of Develi.  It was once composed of four adjoining parts: the Greek quarter of Agiostan, the two Armenian neighborhoods of Evereg and Fenesse, and the Turkish town center of Develi.  Today there are very few Armenians left in the Turkish town known as Develi.

My cousin, Roseanne’s maternal grandparents Anoush Donikian and Aghazar Abajian were born in Evereg and Fenesse and survived the genocide of 1915.  Aghazar had been a cobbler in Fenesse as a youth.  Anoush was baptized in the 200 year old Armenian church of St. Toros.  Her father was the parish priest of the church and taught in the adjoining school which Anoush attended.

St. Toros had been converted to a mosque in recent times.  However, in 2000, during routine maintenance of the church, the images of the Virgin Mary and a cross appeared on a wall.

We found the Church of St. Toros on a major street in Evereg and Seljuk parked the van.  We all got out and went into the mosque to look around.  The architecture was that of a traditional Armenian church with the high center dome, but it had a white-washed interior and one minaret had been built outside.

Some children were playing outside and there were two groups of children inside having religious lessons.  Our entrance interrupted the Koran classes and the children laughed and waved at us. They followed us around and talked to us in Turkish.  They wanted to show us many things and pointed to some Armenian writing on the stones on the exterior of the church.

The children also led the way around the block to their school.  This was the school that Roseanne’s grandmother attended and where her great-grandfather taught classes.  The Turkish children were adorable.  They invited us to their homes and they posed for photos.  Then they asked us to post their photos on “Facebook”!  :-)

The architecture of Armenian houses is distinctive.  They generally have enclosed balconies which are above the sidewalk and are constructed of evenly-cut large stones.

After we said goodbye to the children at the church/mosque, we drove to a house somewhere in the neighborhood which had been owned by an Armenian family whose last name was Bedrosian.

Armen, our guide, knocked on the door of one of the neighbors and asked about the house.  The elderly woman who answered the door, said that she had the key and asked if we wanted to go inside. She produced a huge 8 inch key and unlocked the door.

We were overwhelmed by the grandeur of the house.  There was a two-story center hall with stone stairs to the second floor.  The bedrooms had frescoes painted on the walls and elaborate custom built cabinetry.  Although the house had been abandoned and covered with a layer of dirt, it was magnificent.

Roseanne has many good memories of the church and school in her grandparents’ home town. She now knows the original church and school of her grandparents and the kind of life they lived.  We also drove into the adjoining part of the city of Develi, known as Fenesse to look for buildings of Armenian architectural style. There were many interesting mosques and black & white patterned buildings, but it was clear that the former Armenian neighborhood had been eliminated.

Downtown Kayseri with yellow taxi cabs

We left Evereg/Fenesse and drove to the city of Kayseri. The city has great historical significance as an “Armenian Christian Cultural Center”.  Kayseri was known as Caesarea in Roman times and was named for Julius Cesar.  Mount Erciyes towers in the horizon to the south of the city.

Interior of the Armenian Church in Kayseri

Kayseri was the seat of the Armenian diocese.  Saint Gregory the Illuminator, patron saint and first official head of the Armenian Apostolic Church lived and studied in Kayseri.  He was the religious leader who is credited with converting Armenia from paganism to Christianity in 301.  Armenia became the first country to adopt Christianity as its official religion.

Armenian Church in Kayseri Surrounded by Stone Wall

An Armenian church from the 19th century still operates in the city, although there are only about 15 Armenian families left in Kayseri.  We were able to visit this beautiful church and to see how well maintained it is.  It is located in the out-skirts of the city in an area of long-abandoned houses and destroyed buildings.  The church is in the center of a high stone wall with one thick wood and iron gate for entry.

Inner Courtyard and Entrance to the Armenian Church

A full-time Turkish caretaker and his family live inside the stone compound.  We knocked on the heavy door and he let us into the beautiful shady courtyard.  Birds were singing and it was a cool and peaceful place.  We took walked around, took photos, and talked to a couple of tourists from Great Britain and their German/Turkish guide.

Kayseri is the city which is well known for its production of basturma, a dried beef roll, and sujuk, a spicy sausage.  We stopped at a grocery market and purchased both with some bread to nibble on the road to Sivas.

On the way, we stopped at a group of buildings at the side of the road.  It was the home of a breeder of the “Kongal” dogs.  Cousin Francoise had known about them and asked to see them if possible.  We made a quick stop to see these magnificent herding dogs and cute puppies.

Shopping With Local Women in a Bakery in Kaiseri

Then we had a three and a half hour drive to Sivas.  The cousins, FRUSAs, laughed and talked and sang and talked and told stories and laughed and talked all the way to the large city of our ancestors.  We also enjoyed the Armenian music which was on the CD player in the van.

We are staying at the Sivas Buyuk Hotel, another large modern business hotel.  It is clean, modern, and has free WiFi in my room. I just wish it had air conditioning! Sivas is a very large city with lots of traffic and congestion.  There are many modern apartment and commercial buildings.  Sivas is the capital city of this region of Anatolia.

The journalist, Guilluame Perrier joined us this evening and interviewed our FRUSA Cousins group for his article in Le Monde.  That should be fun!

We arrived in Sivas in the late afternoon and we briefly saw the large mosque about a block from the hotel which dates from the 16th century with beautiful blue-tiled minarets.

It is an excellent example of Seljuk architecture at the height of the Ottoman Empire.  After we checked into the hotel and received our room assignments, a few of us met downstairs and walked out to see a bit of the city of Sivas and the historic mosque.  The sun was setting, but the temperature was still warm.

We met Armen and Guillaume and the other cousins in the lobby of the hotel to talk for a short while before going out to the Lezzetci Gamlik Restaurant for dinner.  We ate a delicious dinner of shish-k-bab with rice and green beans. It was a wonderful day!

It’s 7:40AM Thursday August 12 and I’m writing this from Urgup, Turkey.  Urgup is a city of about 15,000 people located in the south-central part of the country in the region known as Cappadocia.  The city is about 18 kilometers east of Nevsehir.  The terrain is mostly flat with some hills and looks dry, with few trees.  The countryside is in shades of honey-brown and tan interspersed with a bit of green.

The guide book says the area around Urgup has “a spectacular natural setting and is in a wonderful location at the very heart of central Cappadocia.”

This is an international tourist destination and is rapidly becoming a holiday destination for many  Turkish people.  Tourists arrive to see the unusual rock formations known as “fairy chimneys” and the ancient  Byzantine caves which were churches and houses carved out of the sides of the hills.

On Wednesday, August 11th we flew from Ataturk Airport in Istanbul to Nevsehir in about an hour and a half.  When we landed at the Nevsehir airport, we were the only plane on the tarmac.  Nevsehir is the provincial capital city of the Cappadocia region with a population of about 81,000 people.  According to local legends, if you set eyes on the beautiful view from Nevsehir’s hilltop castle, you will be compelled to stay there for seven years.  It must be an ancient story, because Nevsehir is an ugly modern town that offers travellers little incentive to linger.

As our guide, Armen, casually commented, “it looks like a lunar landscape.”  We collected our luggage and followed Armen out to the waiting van and our driver, Seljuk.  We loaded up the van and were on our way to explore Cappadocia!

Thank goodness, the van is a big tall white 12-seater Mercedes equipped with air-conditioner and small refrigerator stocked with bottles of water.  Yesterday when we left Istanbul, the temperature was 30 degrees Celsius at 8:00 in the morning.  When we stepped out of the airplane in Nevsihir at 12:00 noon, it felt like we had stepped into an oven.

We boarded our van and Seljuk drove us to the Perissia Hotel in Urgup. The hotel is huge and I cannot imagine it filled to capacity.

Imagine a dry, dusty, rocky, brown desert and in the middle of it there is a large luxurious business-type hotel with air conditioning, spa, pool, concierge, buffet meals, lounge, bar (yes, bar for the non-Muslim tourists) and gift shop.

That’s the Perissia Hotel in Urgup.  Today we’re sharing the hotel with a large jabbering tour group from Italy.  Someone said that August weather is too hot and it is the “off-season” to visit the Cappadocia region. Spring and fall were the right times to come here and that the hotels were fully booked.   Perissia, we were told, means “fairy” in Turkish.

After a short stop at the Perissia Hotel to freshen up, we all boarded the van and Seljuk drove us to see the natural sights of the region around Nevsehir and Urgup.

The Cappadoccia region of Turkey and it is famous for its unusual rock formations, called “fairy chimneys”.  The Turkish name for these natural formations is peribacalari, which means capped earth pillars or erosion columns.  They were created by erosion which removed the lava covering ancient volcanic ash, leaving behind isolated pinnacles.   The tallest ones reach a height of 40 meters.  Local villagers call them simply “kalelar” which means castles.

Here we are: the 7 FRUSA Cousins

We drove through Goreme National Park and stopped to take photographs.  We did not enter the caves or hike up into the hills because it really was too hot.  Goreme is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Goreme was first settled during the Roman period in history when Christianity was the prevailing religion.  This is evident from the many churches that were carved into the rocks.  The area is rich with Byzantine art, rock dwellings, and underground towns.

We stopped and parked in the village of Goreme.  The cave dwellings could be seen behind modern shops.  We entered a “grocery” store which was selling small watermelons, dried fruits and nuts, and postcards.

We drove up and down the hills of Cappadocia to see the unique rock formations from many viewpoints.  They were truly amazing!  I would like to return to this region some time in the future, during cooler weather, to explore the caves and spend some time here.

Afterwards, we drove to a pottery manufacturer which created hand-mad ceramics using ancient techniques and designs.  We saw a demonstration of how to make a pitcher on a potter’s wheel and watched the painting and firing processes.  Finally, we were led into the storage rooms and encouraged to purchase their beautiful hand-made ceramics.

It was getting late and we returned to the Perissia Hotel to relax before dinner.  A few of the cousins went for a dip in the beautiful outdoor pool before we gathered in the buffet dining room.

Lobby of the Perissia Hotel

Right now I have to join my cousins for breakfast in the dining room.

We’re on our way to Evereg-Fenesse to find the location where my cousin Roseanne’s grandparents were born.  This is the Abajian and Donikian families.

To be continued…..