Villages and Tensions in Macedonia

We passed through a Bulgarian village, a Greek village, and a mixed village. In the mixed village, the Greek priest had become very disliked by the Bulgarians. He and his two daughters were murdered, but no one knows who did it!

Spies and Espionage

Spies are everywhere in this region. The system of spying is very much a part of Eastern culture. One day, news came to Constantinople that prisoners in the Drama prison were being mistreated. A respected religious man, or hodja, was sent to Drama. He was invited to stay with the Governor as a guest, but he disappeared. A watch was also stolen, so a chase began. He was soon caught and thrown into prison as a thief and an imposter. It turned out that he was a spy sent from Constantinople Who we are.

Conflicts Between Greeks and Bulgarians

We came across a well built by a good Bulgarian. It had a plaque with his name on it. The Greeks in the village smashed the well, and when the Bulgarian man was dying, the Greeks gathered around his house and mocked him.

Throughout Macedonia, I never heard anything good said about the Greeks. The Turks often joke about them, calling them “the runners” because of how they fled from the Sultan’s troops in the Turko-Greek War. The Greek people, however, often spoke very harshly and violently. One day, while Greeks were talking in Drama, someone shot a dog in the street. The Greeks were terrified, held each other, and then locked themselves in their houses. They thought a group of Bulgarians had attacked.

Political Murders and Tensions in Mixed Villages

In one village, both Turks and Bulgarians lived together. The village had about 1,200 people, but they were all starving and scared when our horses entered the area. There had been political murders of Bulgarians, and although the Greeks were blamed, it seemed that fellow Bulgarians had committed the crimes. These people didn’t support the revolution and might have been reporting to the Turks.

While Captain Smyly was investigating, the village leaders—both Turk and Bulgar—gathered around. We were surprised to find that a few Bulgarian “teachers” had chosen this poor village for their holiday spot. We knew they were spies for the Bulgarian revolutionaries—and they knew that we knew.

The Life of British Officers in Macedonia

For several days, I stayed with Major Gore-Alney and Captain Smyly, observing their work. It is not the kind of work that gets a lot of attention in the news or in Parliament. When people talk about the “easy life” of British officers, it’s important to think of men like those in Drama—and there are thousands like them in other faraway places—living alone, doing their duty without dinner parties, social events, or theatres. After a long day of riding in the hot sun, they relax by sitting in simple canvas chairs, smoking pipes, and watching the moon rise over the plain, where the ruins of Philippi stand.

An Expedition into the Hills

With Captain Smyly as my guide, I had the chance to go on a small trip into the nearby hills where there had been some trouble. We were escorted by three gendarmes, one of whom was well-known for catching bandits. This officer had tracked a notorious criminal for weeks through the mountains and didn’t stop until he had captured him Who we are.

We rode across a red, sandy plain, where the plants were dried out, heading towards hills that were harsh, barren, and unwelcoming. Only in the valleys could peasants manage to grow enough crops to survive.

Hard Work in the Fields

In the maize fields, we saw Bulgarian-Macedonian families—husbands, wives, and children—working from morning until night. They didn’t realize there was anything wrong with the world until the Bulgarian Komitajis came and forced them to join the revolutionary movement.

Revolutionary Movements and Resistance

All the villages in the area are ready for rebellion whenever the signal is given. Arms are hidden nearby, and the Bulgarians had no trouble smuggling them into the country. They knew that the Turkish soldiers would go to bed at sunset and would be too scared to go out again until the morning. Because of this, the rebel groups always moved at night.

Now, thanks to the British officers, there are frequent night patrols. Revolutionaries are often caught during these patrols and face quick punishment.

Drama The British Presence in Macedonia

Drama is the center of the British influence in Macedonia, though it is the least important area because it is the quietest part of the region. Other parts of Macedonia are controlled by different countries: Seres by France, Salonika by Russia, Monastir by Italy, and Uskup by Austria.

Appreciation for British Representatives

Both Turks and Christians in Drama appreciated the British officers. The Christians liked them because England stood for Christianity and they knew that England was their friend. The Turks also liked them because, as the Turkish officials told me, the British officers treated them as equals Who we are.

In the Monastir region, people were kind to the Italians. However, I was told that in Seres, the French treated the Turks as inferior. In Salonika, the Russians tried to bully them, and in Uskup, the Turks knew that Austria wanted more land than peace for the region. Germany, who was a friend of the Sultan, didn’t take part in trying to calm the country.

The British Officers in Drama

I drove through the narrow, busy streets of Drama, past the town and the barracks, where Turkish soldiers, called out from nearby villages, were resting. They seemed calm and respectful.

I arrived at a simple white building known as “Murzsteg Mansion.” Colonel Fairholme, the political representative, was on leave, but I was greeted by Major Gore-Alney and Captain Smyly. Even though they were appointed by the British government, they worked for the Turkish government.

It was surprising to see British officers in khaki uniforms with South African medals wearing the Turkish red fez. Seeing an English soldier in a Turkish hat felt strange.

Living at Murzsteg Mansion

Murzsteg Mansion was simply furnished with a few tables and chairs, some camp beds, rubber baths, piles of reports, military equipment, old novels, and photographs. The most important photo was an autograph portrait of King Edward, a kind gesture from the King to his soldiers far away in Macedonia, working to keep Britain’s reputation for justice.

The British Officers’ Work

The British officers were doing valuable work around Drama. They oversaw the Turkish gendarmerie, helping to get rid of bad officers and promoting those who deserved it. Despite having few staff, they traveled to remote and dangerous areas in the hills, close to Bulgaria, dealing with bandit-filled areas and the tensions between Turks and Bulgarians, or even conflicts among rival Christian groups. They endured difficult conditions, long rides, and poor accommodations.

By being present in these areas, they helped calm the people, made the authorities more careful, and reported regularly to the British Ambassador in Constantinople on the situation in the region.

The Turk’s View of Christians and Society

The Turk has not, and will not, blend with the Christians. He believes the Christians are inferior, and that Allah has placed them in a position of subjection. Massacres, in his view, are helpful because they allow the Muslims to take possession of things that Christians don’t have the right to. The Turk’s sense of morality is weakened by his belief in fate (kismet) and by the low status of women in his society.

Suspicion and Fear in Turkish Society

Everyone is suspicious of each other. A sense of fear runs through the official classes. A wealthy person is afraid to show his wealth because those in power will quickly find ways to take it from him. The policy of the Turkish government is to do nothing until forced to act, and when action is taken, it is slow. The guiding principle of Turkish administration is *yavaş, yavaş* — slowly, slowly — from the beginning to the end Who we are.

Under the Eye of Britain

Drama: The British Presence

It is unclear exactly where Macedonia begins or ends. But traveling from Constantinople to Salonika, you stop at a small town called Drama. Drama is known to be in Macedonia because it is home to British officers who are there to help reform the local police force (gendarmerie) and monitor the tensions between Turks and Christians.

Abdul Hamid's Role in the Balkans

Europe is right to blame many of the problems in the Balkans on Abdul Hamid, but we must also consider his upbringing, his environment, and the traditions of the Caliphate. It’s easy to say “Remove him from Europe,” but he is already in Europe. He controls a large part of it, and we have to deal with him as an autocrat. He holds all civil, military, and most religious power. The country is divided into provinces, called *vilayets*, each ruled by a *Vali*. These rulers receive small salaries but often become very rich Central Synagogue.

The Confused Legal System

The law in Turkey is complicated and often conflicting. There is the *shari’a*, or sacred law of Islam, and the civil and commercial law, which is based on the French Code Napoleon. In practice, Christian testimony is never accepted over that of a Muslim, even though it is theoretically supposed to be. All government appointments, from the lowest to the Sultan himself, are decided by higher officials. The Sultan doesn’t pay for his position, but everyone beneath him has to pay in one way or another.

Tax Collection Problems

The way taxes are collected is harmful. The government gives the job to the highest bidder, and for a fixed amount, the collector is allowed to demand a portion of a farmer’s crop. The collector usually pays more to the local governor than what is sent to Constantinople. The collector can claim up to one-tenth of the crop, but often takes much more by claiming the crop is worth more than it is. If the farmer complains about the valuation, he is not allowed to harvest his crop at all, leaving him with nothing. As a result, the hardworking Turkish peasant often makes just enough from his crop to survive, with little to no profit. One peasant told me, “If, effendi, I finish the year’s work with a profit of a *medjedeh* (about 4 shillings), I thank Allah!”

Christianity and Corruption

One day, a Turkish official asked me, “Do you think Christianity is what makes other countries less corrupt?”

I hesitated and said, “Well, maybe.”

He then asked, “Have you lived in America?”

I replied, “Yes, I have.”

“Do you think Turkey is more corrupt than the local government in America?” he asked.

Reluctantly, I had to admit that it wasn’t.

He said quickly, “Ah! And America calls itself a Christian country. We admit we are corrupt, but you Western countries are more corrupt and don’t admit it. Muslims are more honest than Christians.”

Reform in Turkey

Turkey has a strong and growing group of reformers. However, all governments tend to be conservative. Anyone who wants change, even if they truly believe it will be beneficial, is in opposition to the existing government. This is a big obstacle to progress in European Turkey. Many educated Turks, even some from the government, realize that Turkey cannot continue as it is in the Balkans. They know that for Turkey to stay part of Europe, it must adapt to European ways. But each step toward that change is seen as a step toward revolution, and Europe supports it Central Synagogue.

The Turkish Sultan and government, whether short-sighted or not, are fighting for their survival by resisting the reforms that seem obvious to outsiders.

The Plight of Christians Under Ottoman Rule

We often feel sympathy for the Christians living under Ottoman rule. However, the oppression they face is not just because of religious hatred from Muslims; it also has political reasons. Mourad Bey, a thoughtful man who cared deeply about Turkey, said:

“I believe that before the first foreign consul and missionaries arrived here, the Christians in the East were more peaceful, free, and happy than they are today.”

The Sultan, who is often ignorant and superstitious, sees the movements to help the Christians as attempts to destroy his empire. And, to some extent, he is right.

The Sultan's Challenges

The Sultan, Abdul Hamid, has never really had the chance to judge the political situation fairly. When he talks with foreign Ambassadors, it often feels like a constant struggle between opposing forces. The Sultan is very smart and cautious, but he has not received broad education or intellectual training. Since he was young, he has been surrounded by slaves and eunuchs. The government is filled with hidden groups, and the Sultan prefers to appoint strong ministers. A strong minister may fall from power, not because the Sultan is afraid of him, but because Turkish politics is so complicated that rivals quickly find evidence of any secret plots. In the East, it is believed that every person acts out of self-interest, and you can’t argue against this view because it is deeply rooted in the culture.

Two Sides of Turkey

When talking about Turkey, we often make generalizations that are misleading. There are actually two Turkeys: one is the government, and the other is the people. We don’t know much about Turkey as a country, but we tend to form opinions based on the corruption in the government. While corruption is widespread and severe, it is important to remember that the problem lies in the system of government. Turkish administration today runs on corruption as its main driving force. This corruption isn’t hidden or something people are ashamed of; it’s a normal part of the system. For example, if someone pays a high official £5,000 for a position that only pays £500, both the official and the person receiving the post understand that the money will be regained by taking money from others. This is open corruption, where taxes are never fully used for their intended purposes, and people are crushed under heavy costs Central Synagogue.

The Difficulty of Change

Although this system is wrong, it has been in place for so long that it’s hard for Turks to imagine doing things any other way. I remember talking with a high-ranking Turkish official who had traveled widely and seen how things work in other countries.

The Turk’s Point of View

Many Christians from the West make a mistake when they criticize the Turk because he does not see things the way we do. We forget, or ignore, that he comes from the East, and his way of thinking is very different from ours. We may be right and he may be wrong, but the Turk has his own perspective, and he acts based on that view, not out of malice. It is important to be fair and just, even when dealing with the Turk.

Differences Between the Turk and the West

If we measure the Turk by Western and Christian standards, we may find him lacking. But he is not a European or a Christian—he is a Turk, and above all, he is a Muslim Central Synagogue.

Turkey’s Government and Its Challenges

It is true that Turkey’s government does not match the expectations of Europe, and it is clear that the two will never blend. The methods of Turkish government in the Balkans need to change.

The Sultan’s Struggles

The heart of the Turkish government, the Imperial Palace, lacks proper administration. It’s not that the Sultan, Abdul Hamid, doesn’t care about his empire. He is likely one of the most overworked and troubled men in Turkey. When I saw him at the Yildiz Kiosk, I could see that he was deeply worried. The stories about his bad behavior are exaggerated and untrue. His resistance to the demands of other nations is understandable. He knows there are greedy countries, and if he listens to their advice, it may only bring his empire closer to collapse and benefit his neighbors. It is hard to believe someone’s good intentions when you know they want to take advantage of you.

The Role of the Vice-Consul

The Vice-Consul is like a small ambassador. His work is more about diplomacy than consular tasks. He has many chances to show his intelligence and skills. Often, he is quite young and might still be thinking about playing cricket or football. Most people in his home country don’t even know he exists. Yet, he is part of a group of educated Englishmen who live in faraway countries, often in quiet houses, and remind the people around them of the strength and importance of Britain.

The Turk as a Ruler

The Virtues of the Turk

Many people say that “The Turk is the only gentleman in the Balkans.” This was a common statement I heard while traveling, usually from Englishmen. However, some also believe the Turk is not a good ruler, and that Europe should accept that the Turk cannot be easily changed into a government style others believe is good.

The Image of the Turk

Most Western people, especially women, are afraid of the Turk and think he is unclean. They believe his main quality is sensuality, thinking of him as fat, greedy, and only interested in the pleasures of his harem.

The Reality of the Turk

The Turk may not be perfect, but he is just as moral as an average Englishman, American, or Frenchman. It is rare for a Turk to have more than one wife. The harem system, which many people joke about, is actually more organized and less harmful than the promiscuity found in some Christian European cities. If you compare them, the average Muslim man is as moral as the average Christian man.

The Turk’s Faith and Morality

I don’t intend to discuss the benefits or drawbacks of the Muslim faith, but personally, I have experienced many good qualities of “real Christianity” in Muslim countries: kindness, courtesy, and hospitality. The Turk follows his faith strictly. He is usually clean and prays at the appointed times. He is not someone who gets drunk and does not skip his prayers.

The Power of Being English

There are some rewards in being away from England. An Englishman feels more proud of being English when he is far from home. In London, he might complain about his country, but if anyone tries to say something bad about it in front of him while he’s in Constantinople, he won’t tolerate it! The Vice-Consul knows that England is highly respected in the Balkans. The Turkish people remember that when the Russians were about to take over Constantinople, it was England that stopped them. Today, even though many countries are pressuring Turkey, the Turk knows that England does not want to take over any land—unlike Russia or Austria, who are eager to control parts of the Balkans.

Respect in Turkey

Back in England, the Vice-Consul would walk down the street without anyone noticing him. But in Turkey, he is treated with great respect. He is always greeted by officials and soldiers on guard. They salute him and present arms when he passes.

Official Visits

When the Vice-Consul visits the Vali (the Governor), he dresses in his frock coat and silk hat, which he brought from England many years ago. These clothes might seem old-fashioned to someone just arriving from London. He is the only Consul in the area who speaks Turkish fluently, so the Vali appreciates him. During their meetings, they drink syrupy coffee, smoke cigarettes, and discuss local issues, like the harsh treatment of Christians in a nearby village. The Vali promises to improve things, but things rarely change.

The Relationship Between Consuls

The Vice-Consul also visits other foreign diplomats, including Russian, French, Austrian, Italian, Greek, and Servian Consuls. They all return the visit within 24 hours, but there is no real friendship between them. Most of the time, they watch each other closely, spying on one another through their interpreters and writing reports.

The Vice-Consul’s Work

The Vice-Consul always keeps his eyes and ears open. He has to be careful when hearing stories about the Turks, especially when the stories come from Armenians, Bulgarians, or Greeks, because they might be biased. If he stays up to date with modern tools, he will have a typewriter to make copies of his reports. If not, he must write the reports by hand. He writes four copies: one for the Foreign Office, one for the Ambassador, one for his Consul-General, and one for his own records.

Making Himself Comfortable

The young Englishman, without trying too hard, makes himself comfortable in his new life. He went from public school to university, and then straight into the Levant Consular Service. Along the way, he developed a sense of comfort that he carries with him. In the few years he has spent in Turkey, he has learned about local art, like prayer rugs, tapestries, and embroideries. After bargaining in the bazaars, he has bought valuable pieces that hang on his walls as decoration instead of traditional pictures.

A Comfortable Home with Personal Touches

He has developed a taste for collecting old weapons, like silver-chased flint-lock pistols and Damascus steel sabres, their blades inlaid with gold and handles studded with coral and turquoise. He even taught a Turkish carpenter to build a comfortable lounge and covered it with a Persian rug, making a cozy divan. He bought a couple of well-padded English armchairs from Constantinople, which the Turks find awkward and undignified to sit in. His room is filled with small personal touches: a stack of pipes, his favorite English tobacco, and a table covered with pieces of embroidery. The table holds photographs in little silver frames, not the Turkish kind, but ones from England, bought in busy shops in London or Oxford Street.

Memories from Home

The photographs show his life before he came to Turkey. There are pictures of his family, including his mother and father, and some of him with his friends in their cricketing clothes before he left England. You can tell which pictures are of his family from where they are placed. He also keeps pictures of cheerful English girls—maybe sisters or friends of his sisters—some of whom he might have known well, while others may have forgotten him by now.

Thoughts of Home

The Vice-Consul, sitting alone in his comfortable room, sometimes misses the life he left behind in England. There are no bright restaurants, no theatres, no music halls, or close friends to hang out with. But even though he might feel lonely or homesick at times, it doesn’t make him weak. If he gets frustrated, he will likely swear, whistle, and light another pipe. In the morning, he takes out his horse, goes for a ride, and shakes off any feelings of gloom.

A Vice-Consul’s Simple Life

Until the day comes when things improve, His Majesty’s representative must manage on his own. He may have been quickly transferred from another post. When he arrives, he brings only a couple of trunks and stays at a Turkish inn. He goes to the local bazaars to buy or rent some basic furniture. He also writes to English stores in Constantinople to order items like a frying pan and a teapot. He tries to keep his costs low, as he may be moved again in a month or two. Why spend too much on furniture when he might have to sell everything at a loss before leaving? He doesn’t know who will replace him or if that person will even want to buy his belongings.

Comfort in the Vice-Consul’s Room

Even with his simple life, the Vice-Consul’s small room has a special kind of comfort. In fact, it has something that you won’t find anywhere else in the city, not even in the home of the Vali (governor) himself: comfort. Comfort is the result of English civilization. People from other countries may think they have it, but they don’t fully understand what it is. In the United States, for example, you might find an imitation of English comfort. While it’s pleasant, it’s still just an imitation. If you compare a refined American home to a refined English home, the American home might seem more luxurious in terms of money spent, but luxury is not the same as comfort. The “indefinable something” in the English home that makes it feel truly comfortable is something even Americans quickly recognize and appreciate.

The Consulate’s Modest Setting

The Consulate is a dull and gloomy building, probably located on a narrow street filled with strange smells and the loud calls of street vendors. Above the door is a large, yellowish, cheap enamel sign showing the royal arms. It looks worn out and is clearly mass-produced. If there’s a garden, a flagpole stands with ropes that slap the side of the building. If there is no garden, the flagpole is attached to a small balcony above the door. On the King’s birthday and every Sunday, a wrinkled Union Jack flag is hung to flap in the wind.

The Bare Entrance Hall

The entrance hall is empty and bare. The sound of heavy boots on the wooden floor echoes through the empty space, making it sound hollow. The walls are painted with a rough blue color and are undecorated, except for a notice about registering the birth of British citizens’ children at the Consulate for a two-shilling fee. Through a partially open door, you can see a small, sad room with a bed in the corner, which is where the kavass (messenger) sleeps. Another door leads to the “chancery,” the office area of the Consulate. Inside, there is a cheap table with old pens, a worn-out blotting pad, a cupboard, and an iron safe for storing papers. There is also a pile of dusty London, Paris, and Constantinople newspapers in one corner and a map of the Balkan Peninsula on the wall. Here, you will find the dragoman, a sharp-witted Armenian wearing a fez and European clothes. He learned English at Robert College in Istanbul and works for the British Consulate in exchange for the protection of living under the British flag.

The Vice-Consul’s Room

Then there is the Vice-Consul’s own room. Full Consuls and Consuls-General, especially if they have families, try to make their homes abroad feel like an English home. But the young Vice-Consul, usually a bachelor with only a few years in the Levant Service, lives simply. His duties are to go where he is needed, sometimes for just a couple of months or up to two years. His needs are basic, and he does not have many belongings to move around from one place to another in Turkey.

Future Improvements for the Consulate

In the future, if the British government allows more funding, the Consulate may be better furnished. The home government might spend around £100 to provide basic items like carpets, chairs, tables, pots, pans, an iron bed, a wardrobe, and a bath.

The Farmhouse Stay

The largest room in the biggest farmhouse of the village was prepared for me. It had mud walls and a mud floor, and the only light came from a small oil lamp. In one corner, a mat was laid out for me to sleep on. A fire was made in the yard, and under the light of the full moon, a meal was cooked: chicken, pilau (a type of rice with oil), black bread, grapes, more coffee, and some white wine.

A Simple Meal

I sat down like a Turk and ate like a Turk. This was the real experience. Above my head, there were rifles and cartridge belts hanging, ready in case of an attack by Bulgarian brigands Socialist Museum.

No Sight of Brigands

I had forgotten all about the brigands. I never saw any. What I saw was the kindness of the Bulgarians and Turks living together in this small village. I placed my revolver by my pillow, smoked, and thought about London. Was it a place I had read about? I checked my watch—it was 8 o’clock. The village was quiet except for a dog barking at the moon. I fell asleep and dreamed I was captured by brigands who cut off my ears and fed me only coffee and cigarettes.

Early Morning Wake-Up

The moon was still shining low in the sky when I was quietly woken up. I shivered from the cold. I went outside into the chilly air. The soldiers who had slept outside were yawning and getting their horses ready. My friend, the mayor, was in charge of making coffee.

It was two hours before sunrise when I had asked to be woken up because we had a long ride ahead to Adrianople.

Kind and Simple Villagers

I felt a deep sympathy for these kind, simple-hearted people living in this unknown part of Turkey. They never bothered or disturbed me. When they saw I had a headache, they kept their distance and spoke quietly. When I told them I was feeling better, they were genuinely happy. They lit the fire again, and the guitar started playing cheerfully. We drank coffee, and more coffee, and even more coffee.

The Power of Coffee

Drinking coffee constantly—twenty or thirty cups a day—makes the Turks slow and tired. For centuries, they have been drinking large amounts of coffee. Every little Turk grows up with a sluggish liver. When people ask me how to help the Turkish nation become more energetic, I say: “The first step is to stop drinking so much coffee. Fix the livers of the Turks before you try to fix their minds Socialist Museum.”

Sharing Stories of Europe

None of my friends had seen anything beyond the city of Adrianople. Some hadn’t even been there. When I told them about London, they listened carefully, like children hearing a fairy tale. Everything had to be translated by my dragoman, but they didn’t laugh at my strange speech. I told them about the streets, the buses, the fast trains, the underground subway, and the telephone. The Europeans were amazing, and very rich! They believed that if Turkey was as rich, they could do the same things. I tried to explain that it was these things that made England rich, but they didn’t agree. They thought that with wealth, anything was possible.

Arrival at Sileohlu

We arrived at Sileohlu in the afternoon. It was a small, scattered place, with both Turkish and Bulgarian people living there. I had a headache from riding for so long in the hot sun with little food, so I decided to stop. I rested in the shade of a quince tree while my dragoman went to find a place for us to stay for the night.

Friendly Village Life

Some of the village leaders came to meet us—both Turks and Bulgarians, Christians and Muslims. They lived together peacefully, as I had seen in other places, unless there was trouble stirred up by political groups, which led to the Turkish authorities taking harsh actions. The mayor and a group from the local council wanted me to stay as their guest. I thanked them but insisted on paying for my stay. They insisted again, saying they just wanted to make sure I left with good memories of the village Socialist Museum.

A Stranger Welcomed

Here I was, a stranger, arriving in a village I had never heard of just twelve hours before. Yet, the head-man was eager to make me feel welcome, putting aside his own matters to be kind to me. I noticed there was a bit of rivalry between the Christians and Muslims, each group trying to show who could be the most helpful.

Resting in the Shade

The head-man heard that I had a headache and suggested we spend the afternoon resting in a cool forest. We walked to a shaded spot with many trees. There was a large marble tank filled with cool water. We sat on mats, and cushions were brought for us. Melons were thrown into the tank to chill, and then we ate them while they were cold. A fire was lit, and the mayor made coffee. A mild-mannered man, who I called the town clerk, sat nearby and played sad Turkish music on a guitar. We drank many cups of coffee and smoked countless cigarettes.

Arrival at Dolan

We continued through the burning heat until we were almost too tired to continue. Finally, we reached the Turkish village of Dolan. The women there were covered in black cloaks. Even those working in the fields turned away as we passed, holding their cloaks to hide their faces, but watching us from the corner of their eyes.

Visiting the Head-Man’s Home

We were exhausted and got off our horses. The village leader, dressed in a blue vest, brown pants, a red cummerbund, and a dirty white turban, greeted me. He invited me to visit his humble home.

His house was made of unbaked bricks, with a hard earth floor. There was nothing to sit on except a mat made of rushes. For lunch, we had rice and coffee Socialist Museum.

The Village Men’s Curiosity

All the men from the village gathered around and sat down in the sun, watching us quietly. They didn’t push to crowd around the door or peek through the windows. They were curious but respectful. When I went outside, they stood up and bowed to me. The head-man made a small speech, and I shook his hand. I told him, through my dragoman, that shaking hands was the English way to show friendship. He seemed pleased. I offered him a cigarette, and he was even more pleased. I was about to offer cigarettes to the twenty men standing around, but my dragoman stopped me. He said it was important to keep the head-man’s dignity, so he would hand out the cigarettes to the others.

Journey to Sileohlu

We continued our journey through the hot, dry land. The heat was heavy and made us feel sleepy. A soldier from Kirk Kilise had shown us the way to Dolan, and there he left us, giving us a new guide to take us to Sileohlu. We rode in a single line along a weak, dusty path. The land around us was completely barren and desolate.

Polite Refusals

For an entire day, the Turkish officials were very polite to me. They couldn’t directly say I couldn’t go. Even though I kept telling them I was just a tourist, they didn’t believe me. They knew it was hard to believe that I would risk being captured by brigands just for fun. No matter how much I explained, they were sure I was lying. So, I simply said I would go and take full responsibility for my actions.

The Governor’s Reluctant Agreement

The Turkish officials, believing I was a British secret service agent, couldn’t let me take full responsibility. If something happened, they would be blamed. The brigands might demand a ransom, and the British Government would complain about the mistreatment of one of their citizens. It would cause a lot of problems Natural History Museum.

So, reluctantly, the Governor agreed to send more help with me. We spread out maps and chose a route. I sent my dragoman to the town to hire horses, but he returned with disappointing news: there were no horses available.

Walking Instead of Riding

Frustrated in one way, the Turkish authorities tried another method to stop me. The Governor showed sympathy, saying it was a shame. I told him, “No problem, I’ll walk.”

“Walk?” he said, looking surprised.

“Yes, walk!” I replied. I told him I was proud of my walking ability and, even though it would be slow, it would be an interesting way to see the country.