"Musa Dagh (Musa Ler in Armenian) was the site of the famed resistance during the Armenian Genocide. Of the hundreds of villages, towns, and cities across the Ottoman Empire whose Armenian population was ordered removed to the Syrian desert, Musa Dagh was one of only four sites where Armenians organized a defense of their community against the deportation edicts issued by the Young Turk regime beginning in April 1915. By the time the Armenians of the six villages at the base of Musa Dagh were instructed to evict their homes, the inhabitants had grown suspicious of the government's ultimate intentions and chose instead to retreat up the mountain and to defy the evacuation order. Musa Dagh, or the Mountain of Moses, stood on the Mediterranean Sea south of the coastal town of Alexandretta (modern-day Iskenderun) and west of ancient Antioch."*
"With a few hundred rifles and the entire store of provisions from their villages, the Armenians on Musa Dagh put up a fierce resistance against a number of attempts by the regular Turkish army to flush them out. Outnumbered and outgunned, the Armenians had little expectations of surviving the siege of the mountain when food stocks were depleted after a month."*
And we, a group of 16 people, had the opportunity to hike
that mountain, get a sense of their journey, and explore one of the remaining
Armenian villages of that time.
Our journey started at 4:30am from Beirut Airport, where all
16 of us gathered and got ready to launch ourselves. We flew from Beirut to Istanbul
and Istanbul to Hatay, where Musah Dagh is located. The hotel that we stayed in
faced the ocean. The view was spectacular and the air was fresh, coming
straight from the sea. We went to our rooms freshened up, unpacked, changed our
clothes and prepared ourselves for the next phase of our journey. We had a Turkish
lunch, hopped back on to the bus and headed to one of the few standing Armenian
villages. As we drove up the hills heading towards the village, a view of the
ocean was slowly revealing itself, a huge lively bluish beauty, there since the
beginning of time, with so much to say, whispering with its gentle dancing
waves, “I’ve seen it all, and this too shall pass”,the wisest form of
existence. Clouds covered the neighboring mountains, and cold breeze blew from
a distance.
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| The shore of Antakya |
In a village called Vakif, we headed to one of the old
Armenian Churches, the area was so quiet and peaceful, having fought an
overwhelming battle for survival, and yes it did, it survived, celebrating its
victory with a peaceful silence, but the cost it had to pay was a deep pain
that still echoed in the silence. Along the sides of the church were two old
cemeteries, holding onto the roots of ancient and recent souls. Back to the
Church, we got off the bus and went straight into the church’s front yard. Armenian
people were sitting on the porches, welcoming us as we explored our way in. We
headed to one of the rooms where we gathered to have our first workshop and
discussion,it was held and facilitated by a person dear to my heart. It was to
set the context of our 4 day journey; the title was Map of the World,
discussing how we view an object from different perspectives, thus giving it
different realities. Main objective behind it was how to adjust these realities,
hence adjusting our worlds that we live in through different phases, by simply
changing our perspectives. After the workshop ended, we headed towards the
cemeteries, paying our respects and recognizing the souls that once walked on
this earth. It felt like walking through a beautiful small garden, with the
huge old trees, standing tall, guarding these graves, and flowers jumping from
one to another announcing the arrival of the visitors. I have always wondered,
admired the peace in such places, that harmonious flow of birth and death,
trees and flowers surrounding the cold still graves. Our next stop was an
ancient Armenian church, abandoned for years; it was carved into walls from old
rocks, built of carved stones, and ancient inscriptions. We had candles with
us, and lighted them as we silently stepped into the arms of that cold dark
church. Nothing spoke of life in that church, but it screamed life. We silently
looked around touching the walls, like a gentle kiss on a dying forehead,
“you’re not forgotten, we’re here for you”. We then gathered in a circle as
reverend Bruce, who was a member of our team, opened a crack in the past,
showing us what once stood there, and what happened in that very village. The
glowing torch of history was passed to one of our Armenian friends who was on
board, sharing one of the stories that was passed by his grandfather, a story
of life and death, of pain and joy reborn. We concluded our visit by placing
our candles in the openings of the church’s walls, shedding light in its hushed
corners. As we were done, the church was glowing, it smiled back at us with a
tear, and an unspoken promise from our side that we’ll be back and restore that
portal of faith in you.
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| The Old Armenian Church |
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| The Candles that we lid |
We then headed back to the bus with the sun setting, clouds
thickening, and the breeze getting colder. We arrived at our place, ready to
take shower, have dinner and head to sleep. The ocean was so tempting and the
sun had not fully set yet. I wasn’t the only one, Athalia, a very dear friend,very
close to my heart and couple of other friends, decided to put our swimming
suites on and head towards the beach, jumping into the water with the wind blowing
and waves fueling. The setting sun on the cool water was the perfect reflection
of what lied within, running into its depth with joy and happiness, leaving
everything behind for a while and giving our bodies that chance to express
itself. After an hour of swim we headed back to our place, finally took shower,
had our dinner and then we had the evening to ourselves. Some of us went on
sitting on the benches facing the beach, others had small gatherings over
Turkish tea, some went to bed, I and two of my friends headed towards the
shore. The sun was already gone, and darkness was at its peak, but that peak
wasn’t complete as it was invaded by the glowing moon, and a starry sky. We sat
near the growling waves looking at the sky and gliding down to the depth of the
ocean. It was one of those moments that words fail to describe. I couldn’t help
but remember the people I love most and appreciate; I ended my night in
silence, with a prayer for all of those whom I value the most. Finally we
crawled to our beds, and slept holding on to the present moment.
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On the second day, we were supposed to hike the mountain but we
postponed it till the next day due to an approaching storm. We had our
breakfast followed by a small session held by Dr. Eugune, one of the main
persons who turned this dream project into reality. The session was an overview
of the historical events that took place in the region and on Musah Dagh. After
that session, we had our free time, half of us decided to go and visit Antakya
city, and the other half decided to explore the neighboring villages and spend
more time there, I was in the second half. After lunch, we dispersed. We went
back to Vakif village, started with an old abandoned temple that was facing the
beach. The stones were huge, I couldn’t help myself but wonder about how it looked
when people lived here. We then went on to meet one of the village’selderly
person who was kind enough to share with us a story of that place, opening the
space for us for any questions we wanted to ask in order to explore. It was
eye-opening indeed. A great feeling that stories of that time are still alive
in people’s hearts and it got passed on to ours. Later, we went to the center
of the village where an ancient, old tree stood, called the wishing tree.It was
breathtakingly enormous covering the village’s central square. From that point,
we decided to explore our way by foot walking into the village, and have a
sense of the villagers’ lives. We aimed to walk towards that old church that we
were at yesterday. The streets were beautiful, and trees covered both sides of
the road, it was so full of life, women picking grapes, and others oranges from
the trees, some on their balconies sipping tea and others having their quiet
afternoons on the benches. As we walked around for about 15 minutes, we bumped
into kids who had bikes and were riding it with smiles all over their faces. We
had some failed attempts of communicating with them in Turkish. One of the kids,
Ahmad, spoke some English, so he became our translator! I asked for a ride and
they were kind enough to lend me their bike, such joy, riding around freely!
Later, we continued our walk towards the church, and dispersed, Athalia and I
spent our time with the kids, riding their bikes, and having random, funny
conversations with the three kids. Others went back to the church, some had the
cameras on and wondered around clicking shots of old abandoned Armenian houses,
and natural sceneries. As we headed back towards the bus, we stopped at a
random window with an old meat mincer, while taking a picture, a guy came out calling
us, and we said “sorry”, thinking we disturbed him. He started gesturing,
pointing out to the camera and into his house, we found this odd, but it turned
out that he was inviting us in. “Why not?!”, we entered and there was a
spectacular view from his balcony, it was amazing, with the scenery of the
beach, green hills, and dispersed houses of the village. “The only thing that
is missing is having a cup of tea on the balcony, I wish we could stay here for
a while”, I thought out aloud to Athalia and Fatima. And then from the inside
of his house his wife came out, with a bright smile on her face. She greeted us warmly and welcomed us. The guy
said “Coffee?”, “No, no thank you”, we asked. “Tea?”, “ Hader”, he said again,
meaning the tea is ready. My face just brightened up and I looked at Athalia
and Fatima “TEA!!!” yup my wish was answered and I had the opportunity to sit
on that balcony with my beloved people drinking Turkish tea with the locals. We
sat down and exchanged conversations, they spoke some Arabic. Later on his
daughters came, a 10 year old and 4 year old, with the most beautiful smiles
anyone could imagine. His 10 year old daughter spoke some proper English; it
was such a heartwarming afternoon. Soon we had to leave because the guys were
ahead of us. As we left their house, we said our goodbyes, and waved to them,
we met Rhea and Reverend Bruce, they too had their special welcoming experiences;
they had a small tour in somebody’s goat farm, and met his family. As we went
down heading back to the bus, we saw an old lady picking flowers in front of
her house, we waved to her and she called us to approach her, reverend Bruce
went to her, and she picked three flowers for him. As we went down, we couldn’t
stop jumping around, laughing and talking about random stuff. “You know? My day
would be complete if I could have a bike ride around; I wish I could do that”.
Few minutes later a guy with his red bike came, offering a ride. I couldn’t
believe my eyes, “YESSSSS I’ll GOOO”, I hopped right behind him, waved to the
rest, “Have a nice walk”. I was overwhelmed with happiness and joy. The guy spoke
fluent Arabic, askedmy name, country I came from. He asked about the reason we
were there, and I shared with him, he offered to take me to a church. As we
drove he said “I used to work in Saudi Arabia”, “What?? I used to live in
Jeddah and my father still works there”. I said with my eye brows flying up in
the air. “I worked there for 5 months, what’s your father’s name?”, and I told
him. “KID!! I know your father”, and he
knew where he worked. He named the restaurants that he worked in; one was next
to our place where we used to live. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, am
on a bike ride with a random Turkish guy in an old village, who apparently knew
my father! What are the odds of that happening? God is everywhere indeed. As I
arrived at the church, Went back to the bus because we were running out of time.
My group was there, we went on the bus, and I told them what happened, they
couldn’t believe it, it’s indeed a miracle! We went back to the hotel, the
first half of the group was there already, we walked around the beach and went
to one of the restaurants, grabbed our sandwiches and ate on the shore. And
again we concluded our day with a goodnight sleep. Keeping in mind that our
awaited hike was the next day and we had to wake up at 4:00am.
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| Negotiating with the kids for a ride :D |
The next morning we woke up, got dressed, hiking shoes on,
backpacks, snacks, water and all the necessary stuff we needed. 4:30 breakfast,
and at 5:00 headed straight to the mountain. We had a truck arranged for us,
all 16 of hopped on and rode a 20 minutes’ drive straight up the hills. As we
drove up the sun was slowly rising greeting us, it was cold, but happy cold,
everything was lining up perfectly. We arrived to our spot with our guide
“Torus”. We walked and hiked our way through. The greenery was spectacular,the
weather was sunny and very pleasant. The track was clear but rocky. As we
marched through the mountains we saw plain land between every two mountains.
Cows were scattered all over the plains, and there were a whole lot of old
destroyed houses made of stones, at least 500 hundred years old. We had a brief
break during which we heard sharings and stories of the journey that the
Armenians had to endure on that spot. Later on we marched for almost three
hours and reached a spot with a beautiful view, all green mountains and trees
covering the landscapes. We rested in an open spot for 15min and then headed
straight towards the peak. We saw small houses of farmers who lived up there,
with their goats and cows, a liberating way of living, in the open spaces with
limited materials to live on. We weren’t far from our goal, an hour later we
reached the spot we were aiming for. There stood an old ship statue made of
huge bricks of stones, clouds were covering the site. We gathered next to that
ship, and sat, and listened to some more sharings, we opened another portal to
the past. And we sat in silence for a while. We went onto the edge of the Musah
Dagh mountain, and there stood a breath taking view of the ocean from far away.
It was the route which the Armenians took while evacuating the Dagh as the
Ottoman Turks followed them. A while later we headed towards a spring down the
other side of the mountain, where we had our lunch. We carried fish with us
that we grilled on the fire. We had a good two hour’s rest there, listened to
music, had little chats, and a small competition of tossing stones with a
stick. Our friend, Charlot from Liverpool defeated us all with her swings.
Something worth mentioning is that during our hike and as we were having our
lunch, we could clearly hear the bombings on the other side of the far
mountain, it was Syria. While we were there remembering and going through the
history of the Armenian Genocide, other stories and genocides were happening on
the other side of the country. It was heart breaking, I couldn’t help but to
wonder how many lives were lost behind with every bomb we heard. “A moment of
prayer for Syria”.
We finished our lunch and were ready for our final phase of
the trip. We planned to build an Armenian cross with pieces of cloth, on which
we wrote our prayers and wishes. We gathered and started working on it, putting
pieces of our hearts on those clothes, wishes, prayers and shared thoughts. We
stood encircling the flag going through our prayers, and sharing them. After a
while we wrapped it up and buried it underneath a pile of rocks next to that
old ship statue. After that we headed straight back to the truck of almost a
three hour ride downwards. We all had this feeling of fulfillment and sense of
achievement. As we were going down, we agreed to go for a swim as soon as we
arrived, no matter what. We reached the truck, had some fruit, shared some
jokes and silly games around, and stood on the edges of the truck viewing the
scenery of the hills and the ocean,a mixture of them all. Soon we arrived, dived
straight into our swimming suites and rushed towards the beach, it was a bit cold
and the sun was setting, but that didn’t stop us and we had a swim, stretched
our muscles, raced, splashed, and sighed. I stood there in the water as the sun
started to set down. It was just the ideal ending for a beautiful day.
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| Our Ride |
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| The plains between the mountains on our way to the Dagh, piles of Rocks of an old house that once was standing there |
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| The Old Statue of the Ship |
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| Having our grilled fish at the spring after reaching the top of the Dagh |
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| The Cross that we built, inscribed with our prayers and wishes on |
On the final day, we
had a final debrief of the past three days and finally visiting the city
Antakya with all of us as a group before heading to the airport.We had our
breakfast and took on our final bus ride. We drove a distance of 5km, far from
the place we were staying in. It was a beautiful road that aligned the shore. We
finally arrived at our destination and headed to a huge rocky side of the beach
and sat there to have our concluding ceremony. As we walked along the shore
towards the huge rock, reverend Bruce asked us to pick two pebbles. We reached
the huge rock and sat under the shades facing the beach. Dr. Eugene started
with reading a part of the final chapter of the MusahDagh novel, closing the
final portal of that historical overview. Then Athalia pitched in with a quick
go through of what happened during these days, a recall of facts, how we felt,
and what are our next steps would be after such an experience, what is it that
we’ll carry with us from the whole thing. And finally Reverend Bruce asked us
to hold those two stones with both of our hands separately and to pray, and to
speak out the title of our prayer with one word or phrase and after our prayers
to make a wish, and after we’re done, to walk silently and throw one stone to
the ocean and keep the other one with us. As the prayers started,every one of
us shared a word of our prayers,
“Strength”, “Peace”, “Faith”, “Patience”, “Love”, “Family”, “Armenia”,
“Lebanon”, “Freedom”, “Guidance”, words that everyone shared, and shuffling as
the wind blew. Then silently everyone dispersed throwing their stones into the
ocean, all of us leaving pieces of our hearts in that place knowing that
they’ll stay there forever and never fade away.
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| Gathering our Peddles |
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| The debriefing |
Finally we headed back to the bus
and straight to the city of Antakya. It was a beautiful place, stacked with
people all over, we looked around the shops, bought what we wanted to buy, souvenirs
and gifts for our friends and families. We had Turkish shawarmas and ice-creams
and
were ready to say our goodbyes to the place after some
decent hours spent in that town, we headed straight to the airport, all
enriched and satisfied with what we gained and experienced. Ready to pursue our
dreams, carrying a bit of history, a part that was once almost forgotten but
not anymore, it’s alive in all of our hearts: Hagop, Athalia, Reverend Bruce,
Rhea, Nshan, Jinan, Mark, Dr. Eugene, Francesca, George, Fatima, Garo, Big
Hagop, Charlot, Berj, and myself.
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| Praying for Athalia's booking process to London |
We swore to pass it on and keep
this memory alive and vibrating within us.
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| On our way back home :) |
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