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PARDON HIM, HE IS AN ARMENIAN
Hurriyet Daily News, Turkey
Aug 9 2014
YILMAZ OZDÄ°L
It is the beginning of the 1990s.
He is a doctor and a sculptor. On his way to holidays, he makes
a stopover in Afyon and comes across a huge crowd of people. Their
conditions look poor, torn clothes, eyes swollen from crying... "What
is wrong?" he asks. They are local farmers conducting a fallen
soldier's funeral.
The man looks at his three-year-old daughter, jumping up and down
with joy and then takes a look at the villagers... On one hand,
there is his daughter who he wouldn't even exchange a single strand
of her hair for anything, and on the other, there is a father who let
go of his son in order for him to fight for his country... He feels
ashamed. He thinks to himself, "I need to do something, make these
kids immortal." He prepares a "Å~^ehit Agacı" (Martyr Tree) project.
He plans on writing the names of the victims of terror on tags and
hang those tags on a tree, thus enabling the souls of these heroes
to teeter on the trees forever.
He only had the chance to put his plan into action in 2003. He decides
to join the contest opened by the State Art and Sculptor Museum. He
comes to Istanbul. He then goes to the neighborhood of Tahtakale to
get the tags, asking where to find them and everybody points in the
direction of an Armenian craftsman.
He finds this little store in the backstreets of the Egyptian Bazaar
(Mısır carÅ~_ısı), goes in and starts telling him about his
plan. The Armenian craftsman listens and he points out one detail the
man had not thought about, "The tags should never rust; our children
should shine until eternity."
The tags shouldn't rust indeed; however, the shiny tags the
craftsman mentioned are the most expensive kind; 1 Turkish Lira,
25 kuruÅ~_... "This is not trade, don't bother about the money,
this is our duty for our country," says the Armenian craftsman.
He gives the tags for 25 kuruÅ~_, one fifth of the actual price,
thus having a loss, rather than making a profit. 3,000 tags... He
promises to send them by next week and does as he promises.
However, the sculptor ends up not being able to join the contest due
to some errands. He takes the tags to the basement in his house and
they remain there until the sculptor achieves his goal in 2009.
At that time, Ankara's Kızılcahamam municipality was constructing
a park under the name "Martyr Fatih Duru." He applies and the mayor
accepts his application immediately. A cedar tree is going to be used.
However, there is a problem. Since the 1990s, the number of deaths
has reached over 6,000 and the number of tags is 3,000.
He needs to get more tags in time for the park's opening ceremony and
because of this he prefers to arrange things from Ankara; however,
the bad news is that he doesn't have the Armenian craftsman's contact
details. He goes on the Internet and in order to complete the number
of tags, he contacts merchandizers who sell military materials. He
requests tags that don't rust and gets guaranteed by the merchandizers
that the tags they are selling are the king of all tags. There is
limited time... He buys the new tags for 1 Lira, which he had gotten
for 25 kuruÅ~_ from the Armenian craftsman at the time.
He writes down the names of the fallen soldiers, one by one, on the
tags and hangs them on the cedar's leaves... They do the opening
ceremony on Republic Day. Our media rushes to the event, Turkey
watches with outpouring emotions and then it is forgotten.
Then comes winter time. When the rain hits the cedar's leaves, 3,000
of the tags shine, while the rest rust!
The sculptor remembers the Armenian craftsman's words, "This is our
duty for our country, our children should shine until eternity."
Crying, the sculptor changes the tags, the tags that were guaranteed
to not rust by a Turkish merchandizer.
You need to learn to be a human first.
It is not origins that matters, it is knowing who robbed the whole
nation that matters!
August/09/2014
http://www.hurriyetdailynews.com/pardon-him-he-is-an-armenian.aspx?pageID=449&nID=70172&NewsCatID=504
Hurriyet Daily News, Turkey
Aug 9 2014
YILMAZ OZDÄ°L
It is the beginning of the 1990s.
He is a doctor and a sculptor. On his way to holidays, he makes
a stopover in Afyon and comes across a huge crowd of people. Their
conditions look poor, torn clothes, eyes swollen from crying... "What
is wrong?" he asks. They are local farmers conducting a fallen
soldier's funeral.
The man looks at his three-year-old daughter, jumping up and down
with joy and then takes a look at the villagers... On one hand,
there is his daughter who he wouldn't even exchange a single strand
of her hair for anything, and on the other, there is a father who let
go of his son in order for him to fight for his country... He feels
ashamed. He thinks to himself, "I need to do something, make these
kids immortal." He prepares a "Å~^ehit Agacı" (Martyr Tree) project.
He plans on writing the names of the victims of terror on tags and
hang those tags on a tree, thus enabling the souls of these heroes
to teeter on the trees forever.
He only had the chance to put his plan into action in 2003. He decides
to join the contest opened by the State Art and Sculptor Museum. He
comes to Istanbul. He then goes to the neighborhood of Tahtakale to
get the tags, asking where to find them and everybody points in the
direction of an Armenian craftsman.
He finds this little store in the backstreets of the Egyptian Bazaar
(Mısır carÅ~_ısı), goes in and starts telling him about his
plan. The Armenian craftsman listens and he points out one detail the
man had not thought about, "The tags should never rust; our children
should shine until eternity."
The tags shouldn't rust indeed; however, the shiny tags the
craftsman mentioned are the most expensive kind; 1 Turkish Lira,
25 kuruÅ~_... "This is not trade, don't bother about the money,
this is our duty for our country," says the Armenian craftsman.
He gives the tags for 25 kuruÅ~_, one fifth of the actual price,
thus having a loss, rather than making a profit. 3,000 tags... He
promises to send them by next week and does as he promises.
However, the sculptor ends up not being able to join the contest due
to some errands. He takes the tags to the basement in his house and
they remain there until the sculptor achieves his goal in 2009.
At that time, Ankara's Kızılcahamam municipality was constructing
a park under the name "Martyr Fatih Duru." He applies and the mayor
accepts his application immediately. A cedar tree is going to be used.
However, there is a problem. Since the 1990s, the number of deaths
has reached over 6,000 and the number of tags is 3,000.
He needs to get more tags in time for the park's opening ceremony and
because of this he prefers to arrange things from Ankara; however,
the bad news is that he doesn't have the Armenian craftsman's contact
details. He goes on the Internet and in order to complete the number
of tags, he contacts merchandizers who sell military materials. He
requests tags that don't rust and gets guaranteed by the merchandizers
that the tags they are selling are the king of all tags. There is
limited time... He buys the new tags for 1 Lira, which he had gotten
for 25 kuruÅ~_ from the Armenian craftsman at the time.
He writes down the names of the fallen soldiers, one by one, on the
tags and hangs them on the cedar's leaves... They do the opening
ceremony on Republic Day. Our media rushes to the event, Turkey
watches with outpouring emotions and then it is forgotten.
Then comes winter time. When the rain hits the cedar's leaves, 3,000
of the tags shine, while the rest rust!
The sculptor remembers the Armenian craftsman's words, "This is our
duty for our country, our children should shine until eternity."
Crying, the sculptor changes the tags, the tags that were guaranteed
to not rust by a Turkish merchandizer.
You need to learn to be a human first.
It is not origins that matters, it is knowing who robbed the whole
nation that matters!
August/09/2014
http://www.hurriyetdailynews.com/pardon-him-he-is-an-armenian.aspx?pageID=449&nID=70172&NewsCatID=504