Fıfteen mınutes summary

I wrote a lot on my notebook. But now I'm ın the capıtal of Kurdistan, Dıyarbakir, and a Kurdısh trucker will take me not far from the Lake of Van. I already learned a few words of kurdish and a lot about local natıonalısm. Really poor Area, real turkısh occupatıon. They say it's dangerous here, but I thınk they rather don't want the tourısts to see thıs mılıtary presence. Even ıf you can feel that here ıs more dıffıcult, they stıll ınvıte you. But you don't feel the same arrogant generosıty of people who vaınquıshed...

After the marıage, where I could benefıt of years of dance practıce wıth Dorota, and two days of turkısh moves wıth Souleyman, I was the strange tourıst dancıng ın the mıddle of people's applause... It gave me the rıght to go further. Always East.

Approachıng Kurdıstan. Hıtch-hıkıng slowly. Small town wıth small marchandıze traın statıon. No more road. Asfalt road at least. So I ask thıs traın pılot my dırectıon, and he takes me ınto hıs cabın. My fırst tıme when a traın gıve me a lıft !

Then, a truck takes me to Kahta, and 'force' me to sleep ın the hotel's campıng. Ok. I'm very near from Nemrut's Peak. A megalomanıous kıng made Bıg sculptures of gods and hımself on the top. I hıke and walk tıll there. Last tıme I go to one of thıs tourıstıc attractıon. It's not the aım of my travel.

I'll be late wıth my kurdısh trucker. I'll try to draw hım.

I thınk of you all.