Just walking down streets in Kadıköy, you can see rows of cafés, each with a sign in the window that reads “We read coffee grounds.” Recently, while discussing this topic with some people I met who have traveled extensively throughout southeast Turkey and Iraq, they shared some insights with me about Kurds. They also mentioned an author who has written a book on Kurdish culture, published in the early 1990s in Bonn. Denise Sweetman studied the culture in both Iraq and Turkey.Here are few of the examples of symbolism they shared with me:
Natural phenomena such as fire are given much meaning. To them, fire symbolizes freedom. They said it was not unusual to see a fire lit up on the mountaintops to celebrate the new year, known in Persian as “Nowruz.”
It seems another natural phenomenon that is highly regarded is the rainbow. They see it as signifying God’s blessing, and it is a good omen for the people who see it. You should watch out for double rainbows in Turkey, as I have seen a number of them when it is raining and the sun is shining as well. They’re beautiful.
Also, a shooting star can signify that a person has died and that his soul has left his body.
One that I found quite amusing was the thought that when the moon is recognizable by only a sliver of light, it is believed that it has been eaten by some sort of creature.
The majority of people I have met in the Middle East would say that dreams play an important role in the realm of mysteries. It is very common for a person who has had a good dream about another person and they tell that person and the dream comes true to receive a small gift.
I have found that many Middle Easterners have a wealth of stories that have been passed down through the centuries. Poetry, songs, ballads, riddles and proverbs are all forms of symbolism. They say Celil and Celil were well known for stories. While sitting and sipping cups of tea, and continuing our chat on symbolism in the Kurdish culture, they recounted one Celil and Celil story the other evening:
The agha and the servant
Once there was an agha who became sick. He was so sick that he decided to get help. He called for his servant and told him, “Go, and tell the doctor, ‘My agha is sick’.” The servant said, “If the doctor asks about the kind of illness, what should I say?” The agha said: “Tell him: “The agha’s head is so swollen that it has become a pumpkin. His nose is so swollen it has become a carrot. His arm is swollen and has become a cucumber and his stomach is so swollen that it has become a watermelon. His leg is swollen, so it feels like water.” The servant answered: “Agha! I can’t remember all that. I will just go and say: ‘Doctor, please come! My agha has become a garden!’”
Some of the examples shared that evening with me reminded me of Nasrettin Hoca stories. These stories teach about morals and wisdom. The anecdote I end with here could be about either or both.
A man went to a very rich man’s house where a banquet was being held. He was wearing a ragged coat and appeared to be poor. The rich man’s servant did not allow him to come into the room but instructed him to sit at the door by the shoes. The next night the visitor went back to the rich man’s house in a very smart jacket. He was invited inside. When the plate was set in front of him, he began to dig at it with the corner of his jacket. He was asked by the host, “What are you doing?” The visitor replied: “When I came last night I was not given any food and tonight I am. It is obvious it is for the jacket and not me.”
Note: Charlotte McPherson is the author of “Culture Smart: Turkey, 2005.” Please keep your questions and observations coming: I want to ensure this column is a help to you, Today’s Zaman’s readers. Email: c.mcpherson@todayszaman.com
