CITY WOVEN WITH POETRY AND MYSTERY MARDIN
Mardin, the legendary city of Upper Mesopotamia,
has a history going back to 8000 BC, and over the millennia numerous
civilisations have come and gone. This is a city of evocative beauty
and unique atmosphere, where people of different cultures and religions
have always lived in harmony. The Romans knew it as Maride, the
Persians as Marde, the Byzantines as Mardia, the Syrians as Merdo
or Merdi, and the Arabs as Maridin. It is a city about which songs
have been sung, poems recited and legends told. But the only way
to get to know Mardin properly is to experience it at first hand
for days and preferably weeks; to breathe the warm air of Upper
Mesopotamia and wander through its labyrinthine streets, sometimes
losing your way.
With its unique stone architecture, Mardin became
the second city in the world to be declared a conservation area
in entirety. When you examine its buildings you will be astonished
at the way the Syrian Orthodox builders worked the stone with the
delicacy of kilim or lace patterns.
Syrian Orthodox churches stand side by side with
mosques and medreses here, sometimes the sound of church bells mingling
with the chant of the ezan. A Syrian Orthodox priest and mosque
imam are to be seen deep in discussion on the street corner, speaking
the local dialect.
Syrian Orthodox gold and silver smiths whose work
is famous throughout the country still practise their craft here,
their workshops side by side with those of Muslim copper smiths.
Along with the buildings themselves, it is to be hoped that this
living culture can also be preserved. When I arrived in Mardin after
the 96 km journey from Diyarbakir, I immediately plunged into the
maze of narrow lanes which rise up the hill as far as the castle.
From time to time I lost my way, but finally emerged from a lane
to find myself facing the city museum. Here I was offered tea by
museum researcher Hasan Karabulut, who regaled me with a fascinating
account of the city.
He told me that a few days, even weeks or months
were not sufficient to get to know Mardin well. ‘Here each
building is a distinct world,’ he said, ‘and to unravel
the secrets of these diverse worlds you must get to know the city
well.’ During my stay I came to realise how right he was.
The museum is housed in the former patriarchate
constructed in 1895 by the Patriarch of Antakya, Ignatios Benham
Banni. Now restored to its original condition, the building houses
collections dating from 4000 BC up to the present day and representing
the Assyrian, Urartian, Hellenistic, Persian, Roman, Byzantine,
Seljuk, Artuklu and Ottoman periods. Pottery, seals, cylinder seals,
coins, lamps, figurines, teardrop bottles, and jewellery are among
the many and fascinating exhibits.
The U shaped main street of Mardin is the only one
open to motorised traffic, transportation through the side streets
being restricted to donkeys and mules. Otherwise everything from
shopping to LPG bottles is carried by people. Pack animals are even
used for refuse collection here.
The city is like a macro-museum, and everywhere
are things of interest to see. Above the house doors are carved
pictures (of the Kaaba if the owner has made the pilgrimage to Mecca),
and the door knockers have a distinctive form resembling the beaks
of birds. Often the lanes run through arched tunnels beneath the
upper floors of houses. Relief carvings of animals and fruit lend
the city a dream-like character, and the modern world seems to fade
away. From beneath the castle is a marvellous view over the plain
past the dome of Zinciriye Medrese built-in 1385, the minaret of
Sehidiye Mosque and the silhouette of Ulu Mosque. The predominant
colour of this vista and Mardin itself is yellow, manifested in
many subtle tones.
After tearing myself away from the carved decoration
on the gate of Zinciriye Medrese and Mosque, I took a brief break
in the tea garden looking onto Sehidiye Mosque. My next stop was
the lovely Ulu Mosque, thought to have been built originally in
the 12th century by the Turkish Artuklu principality, and extensively
repaired during Akkoyunlu and Ottoman times. I enjoyed another Mardin
scene in the courtyard of the Church of Sts Peter and Paul, where
I was offered coffee by the priest, and then wandered on to the
courtyard of the Akkoyunlu Kasimiye Medrese, and stopped to quench
my thirst at a street fountain.
On the lower section of the main street I encountered
a superb view of the city’s traditional houses with the castle
rising above them. This is the classical view of Mardin pictured
by so many photographers. As you stroll through Mardin you wish
time would stop instead of hastening away beneath your feet. This
is a place where there is always more to see and more friendships
to forge.
* Erdal Yazici
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