Bulls Of Gee'Gez (eBook)

CHAPTER 2:
THE HAJJ

Kaiser Franz Jose I was the very ship that carried Uncles Kevork and Caloust Kedishian to America in 1910. In 1913, this same ship carried my uncle Tavit Chedishian, along with his brothers Manoog and Miron; first reaching the Port of Marseille in France, before entering the deep wide Atlantic. Records were lost to time and the dusty corners of the internet; yet I viewed manifests to find Armenian escapees, from the backwater towns they migrated from to the shores of America, and then to Racine.

Another day, another week, another month have all flown by like the wind; Tomarza has now entered the year-end occasion of festive jubilation. Butcher shops were busy with people choosing and purchasing a voch’khar (lamb), idz (goat), or a plump hav (chicken) for their holiday tables; the markets are full of fruits and vegetables to enhance their seasonal festivity. Christians walking the streets all wish each other a Blessed Christmas. The absent sound of bells, sound only in the hearts and minds of the celebrants, the believers in Jesus Christ. Our savior is to be born to their hearts and minds once more! There is virtual peace about the town’s true devotees.

Tavit opens the front door of his home and steps out to draw in deep the aroma of the season. Tomarza mothers in their homes are busy preparing for the coming birth. The brilliant sun causes Tavit to turn his eyes away. He rubs at them to bring things into focus, only to find a young boy sitting on his heels holding a rope tied around the neck of a small lamb. His first instinct was to slap the nap of the boy’s neck and run him off; but he is stunned to find his favorite young friend Vaha, grown a head or more in height since their last encounter—the mountain air had served him well.

“Vaha—son! What are you doing here in town? You should be safe in the hills tending to your animals.”

“My Varbed, Master, is too old to be involved in arr-yev-dor (take and give, or buying and selling). The ancient Hov’eev (shepherd) has trusted me to come to town to sell a few sheep to the Mees’ah’vagars (butchers) of town, and return with provisions that should last us through the cold days ahead. I have also come to deliver some of my debt to you; this small lamb and a skin filled with fresh cheese for your family to enjoy during the sacred week to come. With my business in the town proper done, I must quickly return to our place in the hills and back to my tasks. I’ve been away from my flock, the old man, and my faithful dog Guy’tzak (Lighting). Our mutual friend has proven himself to be a wonderful human being! Aside from the animals he has given me to care for, he has filled me with stories of old Tomarza and its beautiful mountains. Living with the old man all this time, I soon understood why you followed him, and admired him for his retelling of those interesting wild and wooly heroic tales. I only hope someday to live up to being a shadow of this noble man.”

“The Christmas gift you offer is fine, Vaha, but it was only for a few loose coins. What you offer in return is much too much.”

“No! It’s a small token for what you’ve done and given to me. I was a poor outsider from a distant village; I was shabby, hungry, and without a thing to look forward to. Don’t think I will ever forget what you did for me. I remember you giving me over to the Church and the good pastor. You comforted me with your heroic stories; the stories that gave me pride and carried me to a place to find a good life. Now I’m the happiest I’ve ever been since I wondered aimlessly into Tomarza and was saved. Your love and friendship have meant so much to me. Please take this small lamb for your family’s table—allow me this small tribute. Eat, enjoy, and remember me!”

When Tavit saw tears well up in the young boy’s eyes, he changed his manner. “I will accept your gift! If I do, you must consider taking a meal with my whole family. My mother makes the most wonderful bulgur pilaf.”

“I’ve kept the old man waiting too long. Goodbye! I know you prayed for the day of departure to come! I pray for the very best of luck for you and your brothers in the New World!”

The young boy turned away from his hero and walked toward the comfort of the distant hills. A gentle calm came over Tavit as he stood looking after Vaha. “What a fine young man this young Shepherd was turning out to be,” Tavit thought. As Vaha walked away Tavit noticed his jacket of lambskin turned inside out, and a flute of reeds that hung round his neck; add to this, a menacing sling hanging down from under his jacket. The old Sheppard had taught him well. Vaha wasn’t the outcast orphan anymore; he had indeed become an honest-to-goodness working Hov’eev, on his way to becoming a Varbed in his own right. He couldn’t get over the fact that Vaha had grown from a dependent boy to a clear-minded youngster in such a short time. Even his language had changed. The old master seemed to have refined him.

Kevork, Tavit’s oldest brother, came to the door saying, “What’s this? A lamb? How did we fall into such good fortune? Let’s go to the butcher and have it attended to. We’ll need to build a fire of hot embers to do the job of roasting properly. I can taste the juice of the meat in the back of my teeth.”

“Stop! The lamb and fresh cheese were gifts from a close friend, meant for our whole family to have for our last family Holy Day table.”

The mention of food—by magic—brought Miron on the scene. It was as if he’d heard the words, tahza ba’neer (fresh cheese) smack his ear, across to the farthest corner of their home.

“Brothers, take this cheese, and cut a portion to satisfy your morning’s lust while I figure out a way to tend to our little animal till Christmas.”

Miron frowned, turned, and made his way to the family table with the cheese; cheese to eat with their mother’s fresh bread, while he questioned himself aloud as to “What’s come over our brave brother? He’s softened!”

“Miron, I heard the goings-on between Tavit and his favorite young friend, through the open window,” Manoog said admonishingly. “Eat, and go about your chores! You’ve already said enough! Stop making a bigger fool of yourself than you already are. I’m satisfied with mother’s bread and will have to forgo the cheese. I’m late for my boot-making lessons. My Varbed (task master) is not an easy teacher to satisfy.”

Caloust, the next oldest brother, followed Kevork to the open door, and there he found Tavit, teary eyed. Caloust was now in the position to ply his bother with an early morning taunt.

“Let’s make it on to the butcher! It seems our Christmas gift is at the other end of the rope you’re holding.”

“Don’t touch that lamb! My not-so-little friend has given it to our family for our Christmas table. If you must know, it was given for a very slight kindness extended without any reward expected. This should be a lesson to us all. Mother was right—mother, it seems, is always right.”

“Don’t get soft, Tavit! It doesn’t become you! My knife is ready whenever you’re hungry. Just say the word!”

Tavit turned to Caloust, angrily saying, “Leave it! Let our family enjoy this last meal together before we leave Tomarza. Let us enjoy the glad season while it’s still young. Mother and father are suffering enough. Let’s not taunt each other for the little time we have left with each other.”

After enjoying their days of feasting, the time they had been waiting for so long finally came. The older two brothers came together in a circle with their young pilgrims to discuss the plans for their departure from Anatolia that very next morning. The older brothers remembered the ordeal they had gone through when they traveled to America and went over those reasons with their brothers. As much as they loved taunting their young butts, they wanted to help them avoid the traps they had fallen into in their travels. They sat seriously doling out the rations for the three youngsters to eat while they marched to the seaport. They gave advice to their younger brothers with measured handfuls of food. Ji’ma kezee, ji’ma kezee, Ji’ma kezee (sounds like a mix of Turkish and Armenian mixed), meant as, a portion for you, a portion for you, and a portion for you). The foods they doled consisted of the usual staples that needed no preparation. Into the three bags went walnuts, raisins, dry figs, dry apricots, and most likely included some sliced basterma (a salted, air-dried meat, coated with a spicy fenugreek-garlic paste; much like beef jerky to Americans, minus the smelly paste.) All this, and other foodstuffs the older brothers had included for their earlier Hajj. One of the sad things at that earlier time was that the older boys thought the food would last them for their entire journey to the shores of America. The food in fact, didn’t satisfy them as far as the seaport; as you might have guessed, the older brothers had gone hungry for a time. The idea of the meager rations satisfying Caloust and Kevork for the entire passage to America was ridiculous. The youngsters adjusted their positions to face their brothers as they listened intently to the important advice given to them by the veteran voyagers.

“You will go hungry before you get to the seaport if you do not buy food when and where you can. If you don’t allow this food to be your reserve and waste it, you will likely go hungry. Above all, get to the port safely! You will be able to eat on the ship. Remember!...