Nuala Fthadjpai and the bohlaks
Once upon a time there was a young woman called Nuala Fthadjpai. She lived in northeastern Turkey where the land is very high and barren and dry. Almost nothing will grow except for a low bush with chalky-grey leaves and a kind of grass that can go without water for two years.
In winter Nuala’s people would rake the snow into enormous earth craters. Then, in spring when it melted, they would collect it in clay pots and keep the water in caves. So that, by late summer, the water tasted rancid and bitter and could only be used for cooking.
In Nuala’s village there was very little to do. Nu (which was what her friends called her unless they were angry with her) had to help to look after the bohlaks. The bohlak is a kind of goat that lives on the leaves and stalks of the chalky-grey bush and the don’t-need-any-water-for- two-years-thank-you grass. Bohlaks are wiry animals that can run very fast but hardly ever do, because there is nowhere to run to. (Nu was very good with the bohlaks and thought she understood them. Probably because she could run very fast too, but didn’t have anywhere to run to either). Nu and her people depended on the bohlaks because they could trade them for everything they needed.
They could sell the bohlaks’ hide to the leather merchants of Vakfikebir, and they could sell the bohlaks’ gallstones (which are bright blue and can be carved when they have been immersed in urine for 30 hours) to the jewellers of Trabzon. They could sell the bohlaks’ milk (after it had been curdled) to be mixed with heroin – because the drug dogs in the West could not smell the heroin when it was mixed with curdled bohlak milk.
In return, they could buy food and clothing, which was all they needed. (They ate a lot of bohlak stew anyway, but they did need to but vegetables and rice and dried fruit).
Because the gallstones and milk especially were so valuable, Nu’s people lived comfortably (they did not have cars or television or holidays or fashion magazines, of course, but they had not yet heard that they should want these things – so they didn’t want them). However, life was also very boring.
The old men of Nu’s village sat all day playing a complicated game, which involved throwing bohlak ribs at poles, which were planted in the ground in a pattern that looked like the letter tschk.
Щ (the letter tschk)
The old women in Nu’s village sat around discussing bohlak stew recipes and grinding the horns of the finest bohlaks into a powder, which they put into the men’s stew to make them vigorous on Wednesdays.
There were very few young people in Nu’s village. There were children, who behaved like children everywhere. But most young people got married as soon as possible, so they could find out what happened on Wednesdays.
Nu was not concerned about this, because she had become attached to a young man who, like her, was happy to break the rules about marriage and Wednesdays. So she couldn’t see the point of getting married.
What Nu mostly wanted to do was to leave her village and go to Vakfikebir or Trabzon and see the houses and the people and the fine clothes and the tall ships and the horses and the big market. But no-one in her village was allowed to do this. They always waited for the travelling merchants to come to their valley, where they exchanged their bohlak parts for whatever the merchants had brought.
Some nights, Nu would lie awake crying all night, wishing that she could leave, or wishing that she could have been a man, or wishing that she had been born somewhere else. But she could never think of a way that she could leave the village on her own.
She thought of asking Pohiri (her young man) to help her, but she was afraid that he would not understand. Or that he would try to stop her because he would think that he wanted to leave her, when all she wanted to do was to leave the village. Also, she was afraid that if he did understand, he would want to run away with her. If he did that, then she would have to love him for the rest of her life (which she thought she might be able to do, but only if she didn’t have to). Also she was afraid that she would not be safe in the city on her own, or would not be able to find food, or would be captured by the merchants and sent to work in a BMW factory in Germany. In fact, Nu was afraid of a lot of things, though you wouldn’t think so to look at her.
Then, one night, as she lay awake in her hut (which was made of dried earth and the branches of the chalky-grey bush), she thought of a plan. It was a grand plan that would solve all her problems. She would ride to Trabzon on a bohlak. Because the bohlak could run so fast, no-one in her village would be able to catch her unless they chased her on a bohlak. And no-one in her village apart from Nu understood the bohlaks well enough to be able to ride one without falling off in less than three minutes.
She would make the bohlak run by pricking its hind legs with the spines from a chalky-grey bush, so that the bohlak would think it was being chased by an animal with sharp teeth. She would leave a message in the dust at the place where she used to meet Pohiri every day. It would simply say, “I have gone away, but I love you and I will try to come back when I can”. (She didn’t feel very happy about this bit of the plan, but she thought that talking to Pohiri would be worse.) In Trabzon she would be able to trade the bohlak for enough clothes and food for her to live for many weeks, and in that time she would certainly find a job as something or other.
The next night, Nu stole out of her hut at dead of night, untethered the finest bohlak and, picking a branch from a chalky-grey bush, rode off into the night. Trabzon was miles and miles away and when she finally got there two days later Nu was half-dead from hunger and thirst and an aching bum. Of course, Trabzon wasn’t at all glamorous. It was dirty and full of people, especially men who wanted to marry her or help her sell her bohlak. Fortunately, she didn’t speak their language and was able to discourage them. It helped that she smelled very, very bad from the bohlak ride and, worse, because it was late summer she hadn’t washed for several weeks anyway.
After two days, Nu was able to sell her bohlak for a great deal of money and was able to buy some clothes and rent a room in a house that belonged to a kind old woman who was blind and, apparently, had lost her sense of smell. Nu found that she didn’t really need to work because she had enough money from the bohlak and because, in return for cooking the old woman’s meals and keeping stray dogs out of her house, the old woman shared her food with Nu. Eventually, she persuaded the old woman to let other young people (there were many who had come to the city to get away from the mountain villages) live in her house. Together they wove clothes and ran a restaurant and a nursery for their own children and for other children in Trabzon. After a year, they even got €40,000 from Brussels to start a support programme for young unemployed people.
In time, Nu was able to return to her village and find Pohiri and ask him to come to the city and help her, because she was sure of herself and, being sure of herself, she knew she would be able to love Pohiri if he decided to come to Trabzon with her.
In winter Nuala’s people would rake the snow into enormous earth craters. Then, in spring when it melted, they would collect it in clay pots and keep the water in caves. So that, by late summer, the water tasted rancid and bitter and could only be used for cooking.
In Nuala’s village there was very little to do. Nu (which was what her friends called her unless they were angry with her) had to help to look after the bohlaks. The bohlak is a kind of goat that lives on the leaves and stalks of the chalky-grey bush and the don’t-need-any-water-for- two-years-thank-you grass. Bohlaks are wiry animals that can run very fast but hardly ever do, because there is nowhere to run to. (Nu was very good with the bohlaks and thought she understood them. Probably because she could run very fast too, but didn’t have anywhere to run to either). Nu and her people depended on the bohlaks because they could trade them for everything they needed.
They could sell the bohlaks’ hide to the leather merchants of Vakfikebir, and they could sell the bohlaks’ gallstones (which are bright blue and can be carved when they have been immersed in urine for 30 hours) to the jewellers of Trabzon. They could sell the bohlaks’ milk (after it had been curdled) to be mixed with heroin – because the drug dogs in the West could not smell the heroin when it was mixed with curdled bohlak milk.
In return, they could buy food and clothing, which was all they needed. (They ate a lot of bohlak stew anyway, but they did need to but vegetables and rice and dried fruit).
Because the gallstones and milk especially were so valuable, Nu’s people lived comfortably (they did not have cars or television or holidays or fashion magazines, of course, but they had not yet heard that they should want these things – so they didn’t want them). However, life was also very boring.
The old men of Nu’s village sat all day playing a complicated game, which involved throwing bohlak ribs at poles, which were planted in the ground in a pattern that looked like the letter tschk.
Щ (the letter tschk)
The old women in Nu’s village sat around discussing bohlak stew recipes and grinding the horns of the finest bohlaks into a powder, which they put into the men’s stew to make them vigorous on Wednesdays.
There were very few young people in Nu’s village. There were children, who behaved like children everywhere. But most young people got married as soon as possible, so they could find out what happened on Wednesdays.
Nu was not concerned about this, because she had become attached to a young man who, like her, was happy to break the rules about marriage and Wednesdays. So she couldn’t see the point of getting married.
What Nu mostly wanted to do was to leave her village and go to Vakfikebir or Trabzon and see the houses and the people and the fine clothes and the tall ships and the horses and the big market. But no-one in her village was allowed to do this. They always waited for the travelling merchants to come to their valley, where they exchanged their bohlak parts for whatever the merchants had brought.
Some nights, Nu would lie awake crying all night, wishing that she could leave, or wishing that she could have been a man, or wishing that she had been born somewhere else. But she could never think of a way that she could leave the village on her own.
She thought of asking Pohiri (her young man) to help her, but she was afraid that he would not understand. Or that he would try to stop her because he would think that he wanted to leave her, when all she wanted to do was to leave the village. Also, she was afraid that if he did understand, he would want to run away with her. If he did that, then she would have to love him for the rest of her life (which she thought she might be able to do, but only if she didn’t have to). Also she was afraid that she would not be safe in the city on her own, or would not be able to find food, or would be captured by the merchants and sent to work in a BMW factory in Germany. In fact, Nu was afraid of a lot of things, though you wouldn’t think so to look at her.
Then, one night, as she lay awake in her hut (which was made of dried earth and the branches of the chalky-grey bush), she thought of a plan. It was a grand plan that would solve all her problems. She would ride to Trabzon on a bohlak. Because the bohlak could run so fast, no-one in her village would be able to catch her unless they chased her on a bohlak. And no-one in her village apart from Nu understood the bohlaks well enough to be able to ride one without falling off in less than three minutes.
She would make the bohlak run by pricking its hind legs with the spines from a chalky-grey bush, so that the bohlak would think it was being chased by an animal with sharp teeth. She would leave a message in the dust at the place where she used to meet Pohiri every day. It would simply say, “I have gone away, but I love you and I will try to come back when I can”. (She didn’t feel very happy about this bit of the plan, but she thought that talking to Pohiri would be worse.) In Trabzon she would be able to trade the bohlak for enough clothes and food for her to live for many weeks, and in that time she would certainly find a job as something or other.
The next night, Nu stole out of her hut at dead of night, untethered the finest bohlak and, picking a branch from a chalky-grey bush, rode off into the night. Trabzon was miles and miles away and when she finally got there two days later Nu was half-dead from hunger and thirst and an aching bum. Of course, Trabzon wasn’t at all glamorous. It was dirty and full of people, especially men who wanted to marry her or help her sell her bohlak. Fortunately, she didn’t speak their language and was able to discourage them. It helped that she smelled very, very bad from the bohlak ride and, worse, because it was late summer she hadn’t washed for several weeks anyway.
After two days, Nu was able to sell her bohlak for a great deal of money and was able to buy some clothes and rent a room in a house that belonged to a kind old woman who was blind and, apparently, had lost her sense of smell. Nu found that she didn’t really need to work because she had enough money from the bohlak and because, in return for cooking the old woman’s meals and keeping stray dogs out of her house, the old woman shared her food with Nu. Eventually, she persuaded the old woman to let other young people (there were many who had come to the city to get away from the mountain villages) live in her house. Together they wove clothes and ran a restaurant and a nursery for their own children and for other children in Trabzon. After a year, they even got €40,000 from Brussels to start a support programme for young unemployed people.
In time, Nu was able to return to her village and find Pohiri and ask him to come to the city and help her, because she was sure of herself and, being sure of herself, she knew she would be able to love Pohiri if he decided to come to Trabzon with her.