Grandma Urmiza Cooked it so Tasty

Burma, 1917 - 1922 As those years of bondage and despair were going on, it was a divine event or a miracle that a wind of hope blew at an unimaginable time. Urmiza, this story, and the adventure begins in Kosovo and ends in a historical coastal city of the Marmara, where destroy hope and dreams one by one.

Have they always danced more than half a century on a slippery floor? Among the suffering they resisted very much; But whatever that fateful obstacle was, they could not overcome it. Did the immigrant family confuse reality and dream or were they just another Don Quixote?

Thousands of kilometers far from his country and village, he was in Burma (now Myanmar), a country that is hard to find even on the map. His five-year turbulent and longing period at Prisoners of War Camp/Thetmoyo had shaken his spiritual and physical structure. The years between 1914-1922 left deep marks in his life. A youth period had melted away over the years, the captivity was far behind. The wire fences of the camp, daily railway work, a monotonous life. Is it possible to get out of the camp?

Two kinds were happening; one for work, the other for death. How many thousand people came here? The disappeared created a cemetery here.

Onboard A whisper had caused screams of joy. Preparations left the camp the camp soon after. Was that whisper now becoming a reality? That large cruise ship, departing from Burma, had entered the port of Bombay following a calm and sunny voyage. At a Bombay sunset, the ship sailed again.

In the night’s morning, in the unknown sea, the sun rose slowly, bathing in the waters of the Indian Sea. The ship's nose was towards Yemen. It was advancing in a sea shining like silver. Even the breeze arising from the speed of the ship couldn’t cope with intense heat.

In the morning, as the day was still dawning, an alarm sounded worried everyone. What happened?

Those on board could not believe their eyes. The rear of the vessel was in fog. There was an explosion on the ship. It has been passing on for a conversation. The captain was taking orders, and the crew was rushing here and there. But the fire never went out. Flashes, pollution? A life market had begun on the board. In a vast ocean, it caught a great cruise in terrible flames. Thousands of Turkish soldiers were leading back and forth between the way of life and death.

There was nobody left in the cabins. There was such a panic on the ship. When the fire spread to the engine room, it took the prisoners to the foredeck of the move on the captain’s order. How many hours after the fire had started, a ship had appeared far beyond the sea. An unknown ship had stopped a little off the burning vessel after an hour or two. Then he turned to circle the ship.

The ship that came to aid was a huge freighter. It reduced the fearful hours when the passenger’s lives were in danger a bit with the freighter. Because there was a glint of hope.

It had launched the lifeboats of the burning ship. After the completion of these procedures, the evacuation works took hours. The panic of the fire, those terrible flames, was now over. Thus, a human market was created on the freighter. The freighter, taking its load, did not continue on its way and toured around the burning ship. Because of an enormous explosion, he had leaned on his side, in flames, and sank. When the freighter headed towards Yemen, they left the other ship to its fate. The abandoned cruise ship looked like a fireball from afar as the freighter advanced.

Here is Yemen Emin;

This fire disaster is happening to us He was saying; it left us neither nervous nor morale. We still had that panic. Because this incident that happened to us was a kind of life-or-death battle. We were running from the terrible flames on the ship here and there. What if that freighter hadn’t come to our rescue? The Indian sea would be a grave for us. They would lose us in a firestorm. The departure of the night had begun to be evident with the lemon color formed behind us and above the sea. After this disaster, a new day started for us. After an hour or two, the barren lands of Yemen began to reflect on our eyes, albeit with a flickering effect. We passed here a few years ago, but one still remembers.

It has hard to sleep. All night on the deck, under the shining moonlight, we killed time with dreams of the future. Our ship has moved on its own in the sea's silence.

Bura Yemen'dir / Gülü çimendir (a Turkish folk song) They took us to a closed field with wire fences. There were sporadic palm trees in the field. Hot and thirst. They brought water in tanks for us to wash and clean.

I guess we could wash, let’s say that. They gave us clean clothes. They examined those of us who were sick. He had reached a new life for us in Yemen.

After a day or two, we hit the road again. Under the sun like fire, we crossed that bizarre Red Sea with the troubles of this cruise ship. Brick-colored mountains like its name surrounded both sides of the Red Sea. We arrived in Suez the next day. Camels and locally dressed Arabs appeared.

We could get rid of that hellish fire with fear a little. We look at the Suez Canal; it is very long, desert on both sides. The moat that the water divides into two. Humans, camels, and the flame of the Sun? We are drifting forward on the channel.

The railings of the deck are like embers, standing at their base. We see; sand everywhere...

Port Said is where we came. It filled me with an inexplicable excitement.

It was as if I had come to my country. I’m looking down from the deck. There was a weird hustle and bustle. Meanwhile, they took us off the ship. They brought it to an enormous field.

We were on the line. A British officer perched high on the ground. It started addressing us.

He gave a sad speech. It was as if he apologized to us. Meanwhile,

If there are people who need to move to England, he said in the same tone of voice,

Our door is open. We say goodbye to those who want to go to Istanbul! Some of our friends chose England. It was a tragic departure. They go that way, and we prefer this side to Istanbul.

A little further away and at another port, the Gülcemal steamer seemed to hand over us in all its glory. I don’t know about other friends, but I found myself on a swing between dream/reality. When we cross the Mediterranean, to meet my family and friends; that great longing would end now. The feeling of arriving in Istanbul, the city of dreams and mystery, with great fuss and excitement?

Did Gülcemal have information about who he was carrying while he was moving in the turbulent waters of the Mediterranean?

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• The original was previously published in Turkish here