In 1922, in accordance with a population exchange treaty signed by the Turkish and Greek governments, Kayaköy’s Greek residents replaced Turks living in Western Thrace. And thus started the process of . the village becoming a ghost town as Turks who came from Western Thrace to replace the residents of Kayaköy started leaving the village in 1923. Kayaköy, for some 83 years now, has been struggling to survive against the forces of nature and its human foes. Each street in the village reflects traces of its sad history .
I took a sip of my beer as I gazed at the paragliders gliding over the serene panorama of Ölüdeniz. A couple sitting right beside me was having a discussion. They had two alternatives before them: They would either enjoy a swim in the cool waters of Ölüdeniz the next day or they would visit Kayaköy, some 8 kilometers from Fethiye. Finally the young man managed to convince his fiancée: They decided to visit Kayaköy the next day. As I took another sip of my beer, I was thinking to myself that we would probably come across the couple the next day in Kayaköy. I had already made up my mind that I had had enough of idleness on this holiday and that I would go to Kayaköy, which I had liked very much during my first visit years ago.
A reddish beam of light that was covering the whole surface of Ölüdeniz was gliding into my room through the window. The sun was slowly rising. I hit the road from Ölüdeniz as the sun was starting to gradually send its warming rays. Instead of taking the 1 kilometer footpath from Hisarönü, I decided to take the route that passes through Fethiye. I reached Kayaköy following a 7-8 kilometer ride through unbelievably beautiful forests. Driving on this route has always been a great pleasure. When I arrived in Kayaköy, I was astounded by the sight of the valley that stretched out on my left and the village that lay on a hill on my right side…
Before I started wandering the streets of the empty city, I went back in history. Kayaköy was an old Greek settlement built on the remains of the ancient city of Karmilassos starting from the 14th century. The village's history is thought to date back to 3000 B.C., but only very few tombs and rock tombs from the fourth century B.C. survive. The village's former name was Levissi. In the village there were around 4,000 stone dwellings situated in locations so as not to block each other's view or sunlight, and each covering less than 50 square meters. Numerous chapels, two large churches, one school building and a customs office were scattered among the dwellings.
The story of the village turning into a ghost city dates to 1922. Kayaköy, which then had a population of 25,000, had hundreds of small establishments including a printing press, timber and iron workshops, a hospital, schools, a library, and a pharmacy, making it a commercially and socially developed village.
In 1922, in accordance with a population exchange treaty signed by the Turkish and Greek governments, Kayaköy's Greek residents replaced Turks living in Western Thrace. And thus started the process of the village becoming a ghost town as Turks who came from Western Thrace to replace the residents of Kayaköy started leaving the village in 1923. Kayaköy, for some 83 years now, has been struggling to survive against the forces of nature and its human foes. Each street in the village reflects traces of its sad history.
As I continued my visit throughout the ghost town, I continued my journey in history. I pictured a lively, colorful village with children playing on its streets. I parked my car to take a walk through those streets where the ghost town's lonely spirits stroll today. I witnessed the joys, sorrows, grief, tragedies, separations, heartbreaking love stories, fights and quarrels that once took place on these streets.
I thought to myself: “Who knows who lived in that house over there, still struggling to stay intact. Maybe a girl who used to wait for her fiancée who went fishing everyday from the harbor? Or a handsome young man in love with the long black-haired girl staring out from the opposite window? Or maybe the white-haired, white-bearded elderly wise man of the village? It could even be a furrowed-faced old woman who lost her children to the sea and whose heart is full of sorrow, waiting for death in front of the doorstep… Who knows, maybe a cheerful family with kids and their parents preparing for the weekend carnival.” All appeared before my eyes…
I felt like I was getting ready for the weekend festivities along with them. My eyes were shining with happiness. Each house, each door, each window and each room in the village reflected the past. I went in and out of rooms, seeking the fading traces of the past. I was witnessing lives, sharing laughs, going shopping on a Sunday with the residents of the village… I was there, and I was living with them… I was listening to fishermen's tales, feeling astonished by hunters' stories. I was playing with the children on the streets, dancing the sirtaki in wedding ceremonies. I was playing the sipsi (a local wind instrument) and dancing to the rhythm of the drum.
Suddenly, with the sound of the crowd loaded with remarks showing their surprise, I returned to reality. A group of tourists passed me by, following the twist of the road entering the ghost village to start a journey into history. They were not alone in their journey. The young couple I saw the day before in Ölüdeniz were among the group as well.
At noon, having started to feel the burning rays of the sun on my body, I dashed to a restaurant near the village. Accompanied by a glass of white wine, I listened to the restaurant owner. With his local accent, he was telling me that efforts were under way to restore all the structures in Kayaköy to convert it into a “Friendship and Peace Village.” Meanwhile, he didn't hesitate to complain that the number of tourists visiting the village was low. As the restaurant owner continued talking I watched tourists ride horses outside the window.
Afterwards I visited the small museum close to the village and quaffed some water from the village's perpetually running fountain. Later I took a long walk downhill to the seaside, where I found a chance to watch the matchless beauty of Ölüdeniz for a while.
Later I returned to where I parked my car and drove towards Gemini Beach. Right across the shore is St. Nicholas Island, but locals call it Gemini Island. The shoreline and the island looked fascinating. And I jumped into the cool water…
Meanwhile the day was gradually turning into night on the Fethiye coast. I didn't want to leave until the sky darkened. Returning to the past with feelings somewhere in between sorrow and joy, I first bid farewell to Gemini Island, and then to Kayaköy…
I left the ghost town to the lonely souls, as it has been for decades, and headed home…
GÖKSEL BOZKURT
July 30, 2006
ANKARA - Turkish Daily News
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