Original subtitles

THE WILD PEAR TREE

Sinan. How are you?

Fine, thanks.

Come in for some tea.

Not now. I need to get home.

The house won't fly away!

I've got all my bags.

Where you been?

College in Qanakkale. I graduated.

No way! Congratulations!

Thanks.

So, what's it like there?

It sucks, like everywhere if you're broke.

Sure. No money, no life.

Exactly.

Are your folks OK?

I guess. I'll soon find out.

Sinan.

Yes?

I lent your dad

three gold coins.

Four months ago. He must've forgotten.

-Did you know? -No.

-He didn't pay you back? -No. I mentioned it.

I guess he forgot again. Can you remind him?

Gold is cheap right now so he’d end up paying less.

OK, I'll tell him.

I can never get him on his cell.

You're right, he's bad with phones.

He's hard to contact.

Does he still have that hunting dog?

I'm not sure. Why?

I'd take it instead, but he refused.

Don't waste your breath. He'd refuse millions for it.

But he never goes hunting.

He's very attached to that dog.

OK, have a good day.

-Tell him I said hello. -I will.

And to drop by.

OK.

Your hands are shaking.

I’m stressed.

I don’t like What’s going on.

Sorry, Nisan, you're fleeing reality

You’re hiding your head in the sand.

What's up? Have you eaten?

Yes.

I know.

Well, well!

Welcome.

Thanks.

You just arrived?

No, a while ago.

You, a graduate!

Well done!

Thanks.

How's it going there? Everything OK?

Nothing new.

But Mum's put away my books.

She would.

She hates clutter.

Where did books get you?

Don't get me started.

Restore visible shine and softness In only one month.

Restructuring night spray from our time therapy...

Give me the remote.

Our series is about to start.

So?

We'll go back when it starts.

Who wants to watch hours of ads?

Sinan, come and see what your aunt sent us.

From Aunty?

Look at those goats!

That's a year-old goat? More like a bull!

Stuffed with goddam feed in a pen!

Imagine what the milk and meat taste like.

You'd never get enough grass for a herd that size.

Are you mad? The earth is generous enough to provide for all.

"Do not scorn the soil Haven to many treasures"

"Resting place of saints Home to a thousand prophets"

Yunus Emre!

Bravo!

I should be retiring soon.

With my bonus I'll show you how to raise animals.

Of course!

We couldn't think how to spend it.

You splashed out on horses

so the rest may as well go on sheep and goats.

What a family of animal lovers!

Yasemin! Go fetch my jacket.

It's behind you. Get it yourself.

It's because it's behind me I want you to get it.

Were you eating onions?

Not at all.

Funny, it smells like it.

Anyway. Have some mint gum and it’ll go.

For God's sake, Dad!

You scared me!

Good, wasn't it?

Hilarious.

It made me laugh.

I confiscated it this morning.

A student had it.

Why keep it?

You could have given it back.

Why do that? He'd just bring it back.

I’m going to get some air.

Sinan!

If you're going out,

fill the tank, we'll drive to the village tomorrow.

We can finish the well.

What's the rush? I'm just back.

I can't do it alone. I need a hand.

The tyres are flat, too.

What'll we do?

Inflate them a bit when you fill up.

That'll do a few days.

Ask Nazif to help you.

Here, take this.

-Will that cover it? - t' have to.

It will. We can cut the engine going downhill.

Now lift! C'mon!

My foot!

What's your foot doing there?

Lift it when I tell you.

-But it won't budge. -Move.

Where's the end of the rope?

Here. Hold tight.

Pull!

You can see nothing in the dark.

You see this rock?

Take the rock and the rope.

Slip the rope under the rock.

Tie it off at the top

and slip it back under.

I'm trying to help and you don't give damn.

Not true.

I was just moving it so we didn't tread on it.

Listen.

I help despite my bad back and you mess about.

Dad, I came all the way from Qan. Sinan too.

A quick job but you take forever.

Dad, you can't finish a well without finding water.

Water?

Here?

You're really stubborn!

You know my field better than me?

Good God!

People laugh their asses off at these idiot schemes of yours!

Based on science, is it?

Your divining rod told you?

I've spent my life here.

And you know better if there's water here?

I agreed to help just to shut people up.

And you screw up again.

Why do you employ that retard Ahmet?

Everyone's laughing at you.

Because he was free.

I paid him, too. Unlike the others.

You could have built a building in this time.

If I was you, I'd keep quiet.

What an idea!

Find water

and turn the place green!

Grandad, wait! Where are you going?

There are frogs but no water? Where’s your brain?

Forget it. He can't hear you.

I know. I'm taking advantage of that.

Why did he come?

-Did you ask him? -No.

It's him.

He hovers above me like the sword of Damocles.

Arap!

Are you sleeping?

I hate leaving you with him, but I've no choice just now.

Just hang in there.

I'll be retiring soon.

Then we'll be together here.

-What are we doing now?

Huh?

Now?

We'll do it better ourselves.

They think it’s about brute force.

What are you doing, Grandad?

Don't lift that with your back!

Fucking weasels!

They never stop pestering us.

We used to shoot them for their pelts.

Nobody cares now.

Doesn't the dog help?

Your dad's dog? No chance.

These shits choke the chickens, suck their blood

and carry off what's left.

Like vampires?

Why did you run off? It wasn't the frog.

Of course not.

He pisses me off.

Why let him? Just don't give a damn.

It's hard not to get annoyed.

He's only amusing himself. He'll never finish.

So leave him to it.

Take it easy.

Let him have his fun. And have fun too.

When he was a baby we forgot him sleeping in a field.

We found him covered in ants.

Is that why he's like this?

No, C'mon.

But for days he had ants coming out of his nose.

No, it’s not about that, but...

That old cupboard in the cellar.

Is it still there?

No idea. Ask Grandma.

Grandma's dead, Grandad.

What about the cupboard?

It's full of old newspapers,

ads, notices, all that.

He tied two plastic bottles together

and stuck them in the hollow of a tree.

What for? The sun heats the water.

Then he can wash his hands in hot water.

Look at his shitty ideas!

-How's it going? -Sinan, come in.

No, thanks, Gran. Mum sent you this.

The pots are yours. And there's a few pastries.

Come in, C'mon.

No, I have things to do.

Are you hungry?

Don't stand there. Come in.

No, Grandpa.

I've made pancakes.

I'm going.

Did you come on your own?

No, with Dad.

He's in the field.

-What's he up to now? -Working on the well.

The never-ending saga.

Where's your dad?

In the field.

In the field. Digging a well!

Isn't that done yet?

No, Grandpa!

It'll never be done.

Of course not.

I told him there's no water there.

Why a well on that hill?

He wants to turn the place green.

You know him.

He's got lots of debts again. You heard?

Yes, Mum said.

She said you helped out again. Thanks.

What else could we do?

-Did you mention the teacher? -Who?

The teacher. Did she tell you?

Slow down, will you?

What's this?

You know that bald teacher? An old friend of your dad's.

He came with his wife the other day.

Muharrem. And?

Said he lent him some gold a year ago

and can't get it back.

-So why's he telling you? -No idea.

A real Chatterbox.

It was his wife's gold, their son's getting married...

-You didn't give him anything, did you? -No.

Don't! He's a total crook. It’s him who got Dad into the horses.

Is that a reason not to give back his gold?

They can do what they like. I don’t care.

Go on through.

MAYOR

-What was your surname? -Karasu.

Ah, yes. Here it is.

Sinan Karasu.

Yes.

-Are you Gasman Cumhur’s son? -No.

But I know him.

We just have the same surname.

Who's your father? What does he do?

-He's a teacher, too. -Where? Here?

Yes, here.

What's his name?

Idris.

So you're Idris' son?

Yes.

My manuscript's ready.

But as you know, publishing a book isn't easy.

You have to find funding.

It's not easy.

I thought about going to the regional council

but trying my own town first felt more right.

see swashbucklers here. Do you talk about them?

I do.

-And Wildpear. -Yes.

Few people know it. Bravo.

Thanks.

My brother did his army service there, that's how I know.

And the old gravestones.

Yes.

Just above Lake Van.

But sorry Mr Adnan.

I'm not talking about the place, but the wild pear tree.

What?

You know, wild pear trees. Those gnarled, stunted trees?

That's the wild pear in my book.

Ah, right.

Not everyone knows that either.

Even though the place is full of wild pear trees.

By the way,

don’t think of it as a tourist guide or fact-based book.

Of course,

this place inspired me but these are personal writings

fictionalised in a literary way.

In a way, these are intimate confessions

free of the influence of any faith, ideology or authority.

You mean something freestyle with a kind of personal look?

Kind of.

Something like that.

Well, good. Good for you.

Thanks.

Publishing the texts as a book is really important to me.

Yes, of course it is. Very important.

Sorry to show up with no appointment.

-I don't want to waste your time. -No, don't say that.

Don't think that, really.

Don't.

Did you notice the door on your way in?

-That door? -Yes.

Yes.

There isn't one.

That's right, there isn't.

Do you know why not?

Because my first act in office was to take that door out.

Do you know why?

Because my door is always open.

I've nothing to hide from anyone.

Keeping the public at arm's length is history.

Democracy is something that breathes and grows all the time.

Retreating behind thick walls, being accountable to no one

scheming away in private,

it's just not ethical.

We’ve always stood by workers, by people in trouble.

And we'll continue that way.

Then pass the baton to you, the young.

It's basically a relay race, right?

Definitely.

Now, how much did you say you needed?

Around 2000 lira in all.

It's not just the printing.

There's distribution, publicity, tax.

So it’s no big deal.

No.

2000 is nothing.

I agree.

It's nothing.

That's right.

That's for 500 copies.

The price goes up if you want more.

A guy from the village works at the printer's,

so he got me a good price.

As you say, it's not much.

Really not.

Although that said...

I'm afraid

we can't take money like that from the council budget.

Legally, we can't

directly subsidise an individual.

OK, if it was a scholarly work or for tourism,

about the War Cemetery or Troy or Kilitbahir Castle...

we could tap the promotion budget for as much as you like.

Even then, there'd be a raft of procedures.

But here,

for a personal memoir with a general approach,

I'll be honest, it's a big ask, Sinan.

But I'm not asking you

to sponsor it completely.

It could be a loan or payment for some work.

No.

It's out of the question.

I'd even collect trash.

That reminds me...

We had a trash collector poet. Do you know him?

No.

Wait, I'll give you his book if there are any left.

We learned later

he was a total crook, though.

Fleeced us and vanished.

Osman!

Where are Necati's books?

They were in that cupboard.

I can't see them. There's just election stuff in there.

Shall I ask Gazanfer?

Yes, go and ask him.

How can we help you then?

Maybe you should talk to Ilhami.

Yes, go and see Ilhami. He's your man.

Ilhami?

He worked in tourism. He runs a sand quarry now.

Right behind the mine.

But since it isn't a tourism book...

No. Don't say that.

He reads a lot. He devours books. You'll see. He has stacks of them.

If anyone can fund you, it's him.

Go and talk to him.

I'll call to say you're coming.

OK, thanks.

I'll drop in on my way past.

Go on, it's his thing.

Lucky I remembered.

Hello.

I'd like to see Mr Ilhami.

He isn't here.

-When will he be back? -Monday.

What's it about?

Nothing special. Thanks.

Sinan!

It's me. You don't recognize me?

Hatice!

At last!

Have I changed that much?

No, it's the headscarf.

-That confused me. -Oh, sure.

No, really.

You haven't changed at all. I recognized you right away.

Head bent, hands in pockets. Just the same.

Although the glasses are missing.

You haven't changed either.

Well you have. You've grown up.

You mean grown old?

No! Old, at your age?

Well, yes.

I mean changed in a good way.

Fine, if you say so.

-What are you doing here? -Wandering about.

I had a thing to do over there.

What are you up to?

Not much.

Picking walnuts in the field. I came to get some water.

Is it your field?

No. We're just helping out.

Great.

-So you're done with college? -Yes.

Bravo. So you're going to be a teacher?

I don't know yet.

I have to do more exams.

Depends how it goes.

And your studies?

I stopped after high school.

I guess I heard that.

But why?

Pressure at home?

No. I didn't want to.

How come?

I don't know. I just didn't.

I was fed up with school.

Why are you surprised?

Is it so far out?

Of course not. I'm not surprised.

So? What are you going to do here?

Well...

Take that exam.

Then get a job or do my military service, depending.

I don't plan to stay here, though.

Why not?

I don't know, I don't like it here.

All these small-minded,

bigoted people like peas in a pod.

I don't plan to rot here.

Great. Save your skin.

We'll get by.

What do you mean?

We're rotting here, are we?

I didn't mean it like that.

It's harder for guys here, workwise.

Sure, girls just get married and sit at home.

Did I say that? You a feminist now?

No, don't worry. No problem.

It's what I want anyway. Get married, sit at home.

Everything's fine then.

That's it.

It’s a matter of choice.

Got a cigarette?

Yes.

Light one for me, will you?

Follow me.

Did you use to smoke? I don't remember.

No, just started.

Fantastic!

The ways of a 40-year addict.

You've become really uptight.

Thanks.

Go on, have a drag.

Is it because it touched my lips?

Don't be ridiculous!

Won't they get worried in the field?

It's fine.

You might find this a bit weird.

But I don't understand why

people have to choose the life nearest them.

They don't.

Anyone who really wants to

will go and live the life they want.

But there are so many beautiful things out there.

Like what?

Want me to tell you?

Yes.

What do you mean what?

A whole load of things.

Like?

Like...

busy lit-up streets,

windy hills,

nice food.

I've seen them all. They're nothing special.

What else?

Ships sailing far away,

summer evenings,

being in love, getting drunk,

getting soaked in the rain.

Say it suddenly rained now and we got soaked...

then we got struck by lightning, wouldn't that be great?

Hold on, I've a couple of things to do first.

Everything, life...

seems so close, but it isn't.

Because everything's so far away.

Hatice, what's wrong?

Come here or they'll see you.

Are you crying or what?

What's the matter?

Nothing.

Actually, I'm going soon as well.

You're going?

Where?

Why should it always be you going? Let us have a turn.

Sure, but...

Where are you going? I'm curious now.

Somewhere with gold and silver and stuff.

Treasure Island!

Can I come too?

Maybe not Treasure Island...

but you could say a treasure chamber.

You know that place they call the house of matrimony?

That's where I'm going.

So you're getting married?

Are you kidding?

-Why would I? -I don't know. You're weird.

You cry one minute, laugh the next.

But if you're serious, congratulations.

I'm happy for you and for Riza.

Why Riza?

What do you mean?

I'm not about to marry a kid.

So you broke up?

I'm shocked.

Who is it then?

You wouldn't know him.

A jeweller.

OK then, tell me.

Seeing as you read so many books.

Are there scorpions under that gold?

Scorpions?

There are scorpions everywhere.

So should I go into that fancy chamber?

That's up to you.

How can I make such a big decision for you?

For goodness sake!

I just asked your opinion. There's no need to be so scared.

I'm not scared.

And your heart,

what does it say?

My heart?

When did my heart last say anything?

Hatice!

Where are you?

Hello!

How’s it going, buddy?

Good. How about you?

Same as ever. Surviving. You?

You can imagine.

You coming over?

-I can’t, buddy. -Why not?

That’s how it is in the police.

-You mean no holiday? -Exactly.

So where are you?

At home in bed. Are you back in Can?

Yes, I'm back in fucking Qan!

If I was a dictator...

I'd drop an atom bomb on this fucking place, I swear.

Do you get time off for Eid?

No, if I did, I’d come back. We’re working.

I'm on guard duty

Aren't you with the riot police?

Yes, but we’re posted around the HQ.

In the middle of the gypsy area.

We're on duty there.

Two days a week.

Otherwise it’s the brigade.

We go if there's trouble.

Is there a lot of trouble?

Do you bash communists?

Man, there's nowhere as crazy as this fucking place!

It’s land of quiet now, but two months ago, it was all action.

You're sent if anything happens?

Damn flying.

So what do you do? Tear gas, water cannons and all that?

Yes, all that.

And anywhere out of sight we beat them up a bit.

It’s a way of getting back for being bullied.

Why not? That's the theory of life.

Everyone takes their stress out on someone else.

So we went to a university

There is this pint-sized guy Like Seydi

From some crap socialist league.

He stands in front of me, I've got my shield

He hits me, What the fuck is this Then he kicks my shield.

The fucker keeps kicking my shield!

I’m losing it. Plus, there are cameras all around

When he’s about to kick me again I bash his fucking head with my shield

He flies like a piece of shit!

Like our full sized Seydi

The world’s a fucking bitch, you know.

You think we have any chance of getting a teaching job?

I’ve dropped the idea.

But you'll get assigned in February.

But even if I do, I doubt I could hack it in the east.

Just go I say.

It’s not that bad.

It’s OK for teachers.

The cops and the soldiers get the shit.

What's up?

Seydi!

When we learn we are not so important...

Why is our instinct to be Huns?

Wouldn’t it be better to treat it? as a key moment of insight?

We engender our own beliefs.

Thus, we need to believe in separation

as much as in beauty and Love, and to be prepared

Because rupture and separation We lie in wait for everything beautiful.

In which case, Why not treat these tribulations?

as constructive disasters

that help us pierce our own mysteries.

Fine.

So you can dance for joy now.

-What do you mean? -C'mon.

Don’t tell me you aren’t pleased.

Why?

Because you broke up?

Exactly.

It's obvious in every word you say.

I can see it.

Maybe you're right.

But that's normal. It's the same for everybody.

You were all jealous of us.

You think I didn't notice?

Don't give me that bullshit!

It’s you who needed that cloud of jealousy around you, dickhead.

It was your fucked-up way of feeling real.

You messed with the girl's head way back at high school.

Giving her books and stuff.

Those tricky schemes.

Live in La-La land, ignore the possibility of breaking up.

Then when real life hits home,

just blame other people.

Hatice had wandering eyes for ages. Didn't you notice?

Liar!

You’re only saying that because Hatice ignored you...

in spite of all your books and underhand schemes.

Don't be so damn sure.

Don't be so damn sure.

If you ask me.

Fuck you!

Fuck you! Asshole!

Asshole!

I'm gonna kill you!

Give the boy some money.

I'm talking to you!

He's doing an exam, C'mon.

You joking? What money?

You have my bank card, my wages.

What do you think's left after I pay your debts?

Get off my back, Asuman!

You could have told me. I'd have found the money.

What would that change?

What would you have done?

Bet it on a horse!

OK, that'll do.

Stop it! I'll hitchhike.

Wait, I'll be right back.

Don’t you have any money?

Make do for now. I’ll send some along.

Forget it.

Really?

-Do you have your ID? -Yes.

I forgot mine once for a head teacher's exam.

They wouldn't let me in.

Even though the examiner was a pal.

He refused to let me in.

I wouldn't say he was jealous.

He was a good friend.

Here you go.

-Make do with that. -Thanks.

Good luck.

Thanks.

Call us when you're done.

Good luck!

OK, bye.

God, you walk fast!

I ran and I still couldn't catch up with you.

What are you doing here?

I thought I'd see you off at the bus station.

You really don't need to.

It's no big deal. I'm free today anyway.

Go back. It's not like I don't know the way.

True, but today is different.

Your fate will be sealed today! You're taking a state exam!

You might find yourself in a nice town on the Aegean coast...

or a remote snowbound village in the East.

Don't knock the East.

Even there, it's not easy these days.

I know it isn't.

What do you need to do? Work!

It's not like in your day.

There are 300,000 teachers waiting for jobs.

So?

You'll get a good score then and beat them all.

-Me? -Yes, you.

They'll watch you leave them behind.

OK then.

Leave it blank if you're unsure.

Unless it's a choice of two.

Otherwise, move on, don't guess.

Why are you telling me this?

Because it’s mathematically proven.

-You got a cigarette? -No.

Any change? I'll go and get some.

What?

OK, we’ll go together and you get them.

OK then.

By the way, what's the pass score for teaching?

You don't have to pretend to be interested.

I'm not pretending.

What's up with you?

Was there a pass score before?

No. That's why I'm asking.

Look! Necati has lit his grill.

How about a meatball sandwich?

Meatballs at this time of day?

Didn’t you just have breakfast?

No. Your mum was nagging me.

I escaped right after you.

Anyway, it's almost noon.

You have a journey ahead. Aren't you hungry?

A journey? It only takes 90 minutes.

I suppose so.

Right then.

Then give me money for a sandwich.

It smells so good.

You never give up, do you!

OK, never mind. Forget it. You've got your exam. No worries.

Good luck! Off you go.

Look, the bus is about to leave.

It's OK, forget it. Find a seat.

Go and sit down.

OK, take this. Treat yourself.

Fine, OK.

OK.

Take care.

-Leave the ones you don't know. -OK.

Good luck!

Thanks.

Is the exam over, son?

Is the exam over?

How come you’re serving? Where’s the apprentice?

The apprentice?

The fucker burned his balls.

I left a bag here this morning.

He'll be back.

He finds serving tough, the fucker.

No one from our gang here?

They stopped coming.

But you know, that kid?

Seems he's now a cop. He can stay away.

-You don't like oops? -I don't like him.

Let him go to the east and get a bomb up his ass.

I'm home for just a while and there's a new fucking generation!

I sense a postmodern vibe to your poverty, Nevzat.

What are you thinking about?

Well, 250 lira would solve my problems.

What?

What what?

Those look like detailed calculations.

First I need 140 lira to reconnect the fucking electricity.

I only owe 120 but there's a 20-Lira reconnection fee.

Then when my son came home on leave,

I got 8 lira's worth of bananas from that hawker on the corner.

Every day the guy glares at me like I fucked his wife!

If I pay him, we’ll both be spared.

From Carrefour I need pasta, rice and bulgur, 3 packets for 10 lira.

The interior minister’s orders.

Marmara Co-op has olives on offer.

I'll get some.

And there are shoe repairs before winter arrives.

But I'm hoping

he won't charge me.

Oh, and I need a basin screw.

I'll send what's left to my son.

He needs it in the army.

-A basin screw? -Yes.

Why pay for it? Nick it from another basin.

I would, but none of them fucking fits!

I hear some banks have this system...

of not charging to wire money to the army.

Have you heard of it?

Hey, thanks for that.

I'm talking to you! -What?

I said, some banks have this system

where they don't take commission to wire money to the army.

Do you know about it? -I'm not deaf!

I was busy, that’s why I didn’t hear.

No, I don't know about it.

This isn't a manuscript.

What?

It's a printed edition made to look like a manuscript.

-How can you tell? -From the tiny dots.

Tiny dots?

Take a look if you like.

-So it's not worth anything? -We .

It’s pretty old, you see.

Old things aren't always valuable.

Sure, but...

So how much is it worth?

Mr Suleyman?

Hello.

Do you remember me?

We met at the "Literature and rurality" symposium.

Really?

I was in the audience actually but our eyes met once during the interval.

I don't remember, but whatever.

Sorry, I'm surprised to see you here.

Do you have a moment? I have a question.

Sure. Go ahead.

Let me sit down. Do you mind?

Sorry, if you don’t have time.

No, I do. It’s OK.

I'm Sinan by the way.

Yes, Sinan?

First, let me say I've read nearly all your books.

-Really? -Sure.

It'd be unwise of a young aspiring writer

not to read the best-known local author.

Strategically at least.

When you say strategically?

It's not about checking out the competition.

But you want to know how a different set of eyes

sees the same land,

the same views, the same people.

So you want to be a writer?

Well, yes. I'm writing now, for what it's worth.

What genre?

I don’t know. Something like musings on the local 'Life culture'.

Promotional things about the area?

-No, never. What gave you that idea? -Why never?

"There are no facts, only interpretations"

To quote the master.

I’m not someone to immerse myself so deeply in the local.

If my writing had to be categorized...

some would say essays or short stories,

but it's not that either.

On their own, the pieces might be perceived that way,

but taken as a whole,

I'd argue that they should be seen as a quirky autofiction meta novel.

A meta novel?

Yes.

Hence my effort to pull it all together into a single book.

That's if I can find a sponsor or publisher.

Which isn't exactly easy.

You'll manage.

So what's it about, this so-called quirky meta novel?

I guess it's one of those novels you can't describe in a sentence or two.

Don't worry, a word or two won't deflower it.

Don't be so reticent.

It's not that, but...

Simple minds like to reduce a work to a rock-solid central idea.

I was referring to them.

I don't include you in that mob

who deem a novel a failure

if they can't draw a one-sentence moral from it.

Trust me.

OK, fine.

I know how first novels are. You retreat from the world,

thinking everyone's waiting for your book. But then...

Don’t get me wrong.

I'm not afraid you'll steal my ideas.

My goodness!

Why would I think that?

It's totally ridiculous.

I guess I said the wrong thing. I’m sorry.

That's OK,

but you said you had a question.

I need to go soon.

It doesn't matter. I know the answer.

Yes?

There were other writers besides you

speaking at that symposium.

The moderator read out all their biographies.

Yes?

I was wondering if the writers

wrote those biographies themselves

or was it the organizing committee?

I expect everyone wrote their own.

Why?

I thought so.

The choices people make when they're describing themselves...

the things they consider important, the words they use, they're all...

well, interesting.

Meaning?

It's like a test of your self-image.

Try as you may to hide it,

it reveals itself somehow.

Then you can't help thinking you don't need to read

an author advertising himself,

like a slave waiting to be bought.

Well, think that if you want,

but you shouldn't look at it like that.

Don't judge a writer's work by his personality.

They're two different things.

How can you say that?

How can a writer be credible

if he can't see his real self?

Listen, young man...

I'm surprised at you.

-What was your name? -Sinan.

Sinan, if you're here to provoke me, there are many ways to do it.

No, of course not.

-You misunderstand. -You don’t stop.

You aren’t talking to an insentient being.

-Why would I provoke you? -No, OK.

Far be it from me...

Look, I’ve seen a lot. No matter, but...

What I’m trying to say is this.

There were five of us writers there.

Did some of the bios bother you?

No, not bother exactly,

embarrass might be more accurate, Mr Suleyman.

You're a student, right?

-I just graduated. -Really?

In what?

Primary teacher.

That's good.

Not bad, I guess.

So what now? The classroom?

I need to wait for the results of today's exam.

The exam was today? -Yes.

How did it go?

Not great. I may have to pick another career.

Such as?

The police for instance.

Like lots of teachers who can't get a job.

I have a friend who graduated in literature.

He joined the riot police

when no job came up. It pays well, too.

In my case, I could write for a living.

We'll see.

-Writing isn't easy either. -Sure isn't.

But don't let me discourage you.

No, I'm not afraid

of facing the facts, that is.

I struggled with a lot of issues when writing the book,

I can't deny it.

But the hardest thing of all

was to find my writing ordinary,

unlikely to interest anybody.

You write kind of similar stuff.

How do you sustain your self-belief to the end?

It's not what you write, but how you write it that matters.

We're back to the famous cliché.

Yes, but clichés

sometimes contain fundamental truths.

When I write, I enrich life, banality, with what I bring.

The point being

nothing is as ordinary as it seems.

I knead the dough, let it rise

and bake it.

Then we eat it.

Well.

-You see my point? -Sure.

There's subject matter everywhere,

but only if you can see it.

What if you can see it but not articulate it?

You need to work. But talent is the main thing.

So should people like us give up writing?

When you say "us"?

People not born with that magical power.

Frankly, I think I'm lucky there.

Don't be so quick to judge yourself.

You're on your first book.

And it hasn't even been published yet.

You must soldier on.

Or knuckle down to teach in the east.

Do that anyway.

And remember teaching

is one job that leaves time for writing.

Maybe that's why there are so many writer-teachers around.

Anyway.

When it comes to writing, I don't believe in excuses.

A good writer doesn't whine. He sits down and writes.

Whatever the circumstances.

At the cost of neglecting family and friends

or using them if need be?

Why not?

Anything goes if your conscience can handle it.

You already know that.

-What if it can't? -Then you'll suffer for it.

Writers must be able to take risks.

Iron doesn’t become steel without time in the furnace.

Say there's an object you’re prepared to discard.

Most people see it as sacred, but ultimately it’s an object.

Now, this object can help someone so much

that it may even contribute minutely to the advancement of humanity.

Yes?

In your opinion,

would it be out-of-line to grab the object for yourself

behind the owner’s back?

Maybe not, but...

if the owner then bashes the 'grabber' on the head

and breaks his skull,

that wouldn't be out-of-line either.

Anyway, I have to go.

Anyone would think you're running away.

I've already stayed too long.

I still have one last question.

For how many points?

Lots.

In that case, go ahead.

Most of the rural writers at the symposium

agreed that literature

has no centre other than the language,

where pen meets paper.

I'm off now!

Goodbye, Mr Suleyman!

Do you really believe that?

It's a bit too vast a subject.

-Don’t you believe it? -I don't know.

They read a letter from a writer who refused to come.

-You remember? -Yes.

I'd love to know what you thought of it.

The writer called himself an undiluted rural man.

I don't remember exactly what was in the letter.

The gist was to subtly condemn or show his contempt

for those taking part in these kinds of events.

That's why I'm asking.

If I'd been a speaker there like you,

it would've made me uncomfortable.

Why?

I don't know. But given the letter,

the speakers suddenly looked like

cultural missionaries

who came there to say they'd die if they couldn't write.

You know what?

You're like Semir in Survivor. Why are you so contrarian?

So you watch Survivor!

But I thought artists

were supposed to oppose everything?

No. You have the wrong idea.

If I'd been in charge, I wouldn't have read out the letter.

I wouldn't want to be part of a cheap stunt.

What is this remote-controlled manifesto?

The letter annoyed you?

No, I don't give a damn.

The dogs bark, the caravan moves on.

There are many ways to be valued.

I'm not stupid.

I see how they try to grab the limelight.

He said that, from the start,

he swore never to go to these events.

For one thing,

you don’t start writing like you start a regular job.

That’s just a cheap game.

But in this world where nothing is sacred,

someone isolating himself for the sake of art

doesn't give you hope?

He refuses teamwork, collaborations

and artistic alliances.

On the contrary,

that letter struck me as the dithering of a naive youth

too mortified to speak

in front of a crowd he overrates,

but desperate to conceal this failing from himself and the world

under the veil of philosophy.

But you won't understand this yet.

Why not?

You're too young.

As you get older you will begin to see

romantic ventures like that letter

as the callow excesses of a young heart.

Callow excesses?

The letter's not bad.

I see it as an impassioned cry

from the depths of the countryside.

Nonetheless...

I'm sorry to say find it sugary

and nauseatingly sentimental.

Don't think I didn't realize soon after meeting you,

that you're an incurably obsessed romantic.

I'm not obsessed...

But despite everything,

as you saw, I didn't walk away.

I didn't send you packing.

I let you get it all out.

I was patient and polite despite your sarcasm and insinuations.

-But it’s time you let me go home! -No, no! There was no sarcasm.

OK? Let me go home

and soak my feet in salt water!

-You know why? -You misunderstand.

Because there’s just one reality I’ve been aware of the last half-hour.

The searing pain in my legs

and sneaky pain in my neck

just waiting

to become a killer migraine.

You know what that means, young friend?

I don't fucking care about the centre of literature

being language or any other shit!

That’s what naive brains like yours fail to grasp!

There isn't only one reality!

That’s going a bit far.

Literature, success... You can keep them!

-A -People are staring.

I'd turn down a Nobel Prize right now!

Can I be any clearer?

So excuse me, young friend. I'm going!

Fuck you if you'd turn down a Nobel!

Mr Suleyman!

Could you possibly read my first draft?

It would be great to get your feedback,

especially after that last tirade.

Sorry, I can't do that.

Really. Why?

If I tried to read every book I was asked to,

how would I ever write my own?

Don’t then. That wouldn't be a great loss.

OK, OK. That was a joke.

Anyway, thanks all the same.

Hey, wake up.

We've arrived.

Go to the betting shop!

So he's ashamed to see you.

What's this about, Muharrem?

Teachers should set an example.

What kind of example is he?

Go and he might be ashamed!

Are you an example?

Look at you!

Baldy!

Hey! Welcome.

What's that? Fish?

You're something else.

What's up?

You don't go to the Teachers' Club,

you sit here with these idiots.

What idiots?

When did you get back?

Go hang out at the Club.

What you doing in this dive?

Reading the paper. I'll go there later.

Every time, somebody you owe ambushes me.

I'm fed up!

You're dragging us into your swamp.

Who ambushed you? How dare they?

What a nerve!

What a nerve indeed.

How can you be so relaxed?

while we bear the brunt?

Seriously, what's the secret?

What are you saying? Because I'm reading the paper?

You still think it’s about reading the paper!

Didn’t you promise not come back here?

I'm not gambling. I'm reading my paper.

Reading because you have to. Because you don’t have...

the money to gamble!

Here we go again.

Here you go again.

I don’t know what to say to you anymore.

How was the exam?

Bad.

What do you expect? I didn't study.

Why not?

I just didn't.

Never mind. At least college is over.

Study and retake it next year.

What are you looking for?

An old notebook.

It seems to be missing.

Has anyone been rummaging in there?

No. Who would do that?

Pass me that green album, will you?

Look at that.

When I see the bigwigs he used to hang around with,

it's hard to believe now.

Who were these bigwigs?

I don't know. Head teachers,

people from the education board, that kind.

Is that what you call bigwigs?

Yes. Decent, honest people.

Not like that Ekrem he hangs out with now.

Look how low he's sunk.

Which Ekrem?

Remember your pal from the industrial park?

Ekrem with the big head?

Stop doing people down. Shame on you!

What a jerk!

Friends with a guy his dad's age?

Unbelievable.

Nobody asks after us now.

He's ruined his reputation.

And with gambling for years,

he could at least surprise us by winning once.

He'd only gamble it away again.

How do you know he's never won?

You share the winnings, don't you?

If only...

He even got a merit award.

Sure.

He wasn't like this before. He was ambitious.

He worked like crazy.

Hard to imagine that now.

Time is strange.

It slips by without you noticing.

What else would it do? Wait for you to do something?

What?

Wait for who to do what?

Nothing. I'm just saying time marches on.

Someone once called time a silent saw.

You never know what it'll do to us.

Look what he wrote on this photo.

"I’m walking along a road,

not knowing where it leads."

Look at the words he uses.

Thinks he's Tolstoy!

Like he has the guts to walk away!

Don't say that. He did run off once.

And what happened?

Scuttled back two days later.

I understand what you just said.

Which bit?

About time not waiting

for us to do something.

Well?

Have we done nothing for you?

Did I say that?

No matter what, he’s your father.

Without him you'd never have gone to college.

He worked hard for you.

What good did it do?

-You got everything you wanted. -He put me in a faith dorm to avoid paying.

All the kids envied your toys.

Thank God I've escaped that crap.

You had it easy.

Did I deny it?

Think how hard it was for them.

If he's so great, keep him.

At 40 you have to start babysitting

and still you’re defending him!

That's different. Just look around you.

Other fathers are violent, they drink.

Your dad never hit you once, did he?

It would've been better than making all those promises

and still going to the betting shop.

I wasn't going to tell you.

But you pushed me.

Though if I hadn't told you, would it change the truth anyway?

I didn't raise you to do evil.

Enough!

My back can't take it!

Sinan?

Give them a hand with that sofa.

I can't. My back is a mess.

I’m your mother! Isn't it my right to see you happy?

Must I always live with the thought that you'll be hated?

But, mother! Dearest mother!

I want to live, not die!

Don’t you remember our childhood?

Growing up in rags, no father. All that suffering

Got any rope?

The caretaker's yelling at us.

Do we have any rope in the house?

Have you got any thick rope?

We can't move that couch without it.

-Our rope broke. -I'll have a look.

We don't want to mark those newly painted walls.

Our father died in poverty

While we studied under street lamps.

to avoid being a slave.

And What did if change? Who loves you?

Everyone’s afraid of you.

Everyone hates you.

Even your friends.

Even me!

How's this?

Got anything thicker?

No. Won't this do?

We can try it.

That staircase is too steep and narrow to do it without rope.

Thanks.

Enough! Enough!

I won’t let a stranger kill you. I'll kill you myself.

I’m the one Who’s going to kill you! Me! Me!

I rely on my gun. My life is threatened

They want me dead in Istanbul.

There’s a bounty on my head.

Not if you walk away from it, Far.

If only you'd understand

If only you could

C'mon

you, me and my gun.

- You, me and my gun. Can’t we do that? -No

-Say yes! -No

Say yes!

No!

Did anyone take money from my pocket?

What?

Money.

Did anyone take my money?

There's 300 missing.

What? What money?

I had 700 lira, I'm missing 300.

If it was a joke, it's not funny.

C'mon, who'd do that? Where was the money?

In my top pocket.

What could've happened to it?

Did you have a good look?

Could it be in your trousers?

Whoever took it, give it back!

Who's "whoever"?

Who would take your money here?

Why all the drama?

Calm down! Let's just think.

Are you yelling at me?

Hey! What’s the yelling about?

He lost his money and is accusing us.

What money?

Lost it in the house? When did you last see it?

If it’s lost, you look for it and find it.

Hang on.

You don't think it was the workers?

The door was open.

Maybe when you went to help, someone...

But no, no. That can’t be it.

It's not fair to accuse them.

Were they inside alone?

The guy was at the door when I went to get the rope.

But not for long.

The rope's there.

What workers, for God's sake!

How come you had 700 lira anyway?

"How come you had 700 lira anyway?"

It was my book money!

But you're done with college.

Are you guys taking the piss?

I saved it to publish my book!

The book I wrote, not textbooks.

-What book? What kind of book? -A good book!

You wrote it?

No, Grandad did!

OK, something urgent came up, someone needed it. That can happen.

But whoever took it, give it back.

And he's still saying that!

We took your money, did we?

"We took your money, did we?"

Listen to him!

Mum, say something!

Calm down! The neighbours will hear!

What are you doing?

Stop!

-He's accusing us of stealing! -Quiet, Yasemin! Get in there.

Very funny, Dad! Very funny.

Show some respect.

An angry man is his own worst enemy.

Is it worth breaking hearts over money?

-I said "whoever"! -C'mon, you're a graduate.

How about looking after your money!

That's enough!

Let's sit down

and think calmly, for goodness sake!

I can leave you the file if you like.

It might take a while to read the whole thing.

No need. Nice job.

I don't know. Maybe it makes no sense.

No, it's a great book.

Seriously.

I like things like this.

Seriously, bravo!

Thanks.

The mayor said you're a big reader.

That's right, I am.

I haven't read a lot lately, though.

But I used to, yes.

I’m just back from Bursa actually.

-My mother needed surgery. -Really?

Apart from the stress,

it cost a lot.

Sorry to hear it.

I also want to revamp this place.

I want to extend the front to give it a more corporate look.

Good idea. But this also works.

When it's done,

I want to photograph it.

Do you have a camera?

No.

But I could get one.

I have an old one at home actually.

I don't know if it would do. It's small.

Yes, Sinan?

Well...

It’s all about life, people, the 'Life culture' here.

Nice, bravo.

-Congratulations. Really. -Thanks.

-I like hard workers. -Thanks.

How long did it take you to write this?

Well it's not like counting truckloads of sand...

But all the same, you're producing something, so am .

OK, different things, but same idea.

I agree.

Because if I don't do my calculations...

Say the sand is on its way...

I can't wait for inspiration before I transport it!

True. You're absolutely right.

So there we are.

In fact.

we'll see.

I wrote it, but publishing is a whole new business.

You'll manage.

But bring me a copy when it's out.

I'm curious about this life culture thing.

Qanakkale is in there, too.

You mean across the water?

No, not the War Cemetery.

To be honest, I don't think it's right

to immediately associate Qanakkale with Troy or the War Cemetery.

Why not?

This place has its own life culture.

But that's totally eclipsed by the cemetery and all that.

But we're world famous for that.

True.

It's the world's best-preserved battlefield.

If the world values us for that,

there must be a reason for it.

True, but I see other things.

There's an old man in a fedora,

who sells fruit, sings, drinks wine.

That's the kind of thing I write about.

Tourists take photos of him, too.

Hold on!

Are you comparing Wino Riza with our war martyrs?

No, of course not.

Hold on a second!

I don't understand.

I didn't say that. I just...

Your "life culture" thing is everywhere.

But is there a battlefield as well preserved anywhere?

That's different. I'm not saying...

Why trust tourists?

They snap away at everything they see.

If they take photos of the old man,

it's for a laugh.

To be frank we're not on the same page here.

If youngsters like you

don't defend our martyrs and moral values,

who will?

How did we even get on to this?

You led us here, that's how.

Institutions and NGOs are all competing to support the War Cemetery.

Sure they are. It's their job.

They’re all using it to get work, an identity, even almost an existence.

Don't you see that?

Who’ll look after the old man who still has to work at 80?

-Isn't that more important? -As if he has nobody!

Anyway, he isn't in the book because I felt sorry for him.

I'm just searching for life's secrets.

Here is an uncomplaining old man

who seems to know the secret to happiness.

His world might contain a secret that could help us all.

There's a ton of identical books on Troy and the Memorial already.

If you're that interested, get one and read it.

Kadriye, what happened with those vehicle contracts?

Send them to me.

They haven't come through? OK, remind them.

We need them.

The less you have to lose,

the less responsibility you have.

the happier you'll be.

I don't see any big secret in that.

That's just the way you see it.

Look, young man.

I'm not educated.

I'm a high-school dropout.

But I've never regretted it.

You know why?

Because I trust my feelings.

Feelings and instinct have been my guide in life.

I don't remember ever being mistaken.

Good for you.

But...

look at my friends who went to university.

They're all in deep shit today.

Some work for me, some work for peanuts elsewhere.

Some got divorced.

One even committed suicide.

Sure, education is great, but this is Turkey.

If you want to survive in this country,

you need to adapt.

OK, you learn stuff at school,

but the street is different.

It's always moving forward.

What you learn today will be useless by tomorrow.

That's why the reality punches them in the face.

They can't adjust.

They’re standoffish with normal people. They look down on them.

The market is ruthless.

It takes pity on no one.

So where are they now?

Disappeared, gone forever.

But I'm still here!

Nothing has come to me ready-made.

Everything I got,

I got with my own blood, sweat and tears.

So I should work, save and publish the book myself?

Of course I'm not saying that.

But now I think about it, that's not a bad idea actually.

If I’m here, it’s because I heard you support projects like this.

I didn't just turn up on a whim.

Then why did you support them?

When you say them?

All these projects.

Your logo is on a ton of posters.

The council used to buy a lot of sand. That's why I was generous.

We had an agreement.

A vested interest then.

What are you talking about?

You have to do these things. We're in the sand business.

We do what we have to do.

You’re good to good customers. What’s not to get about that?

So, Ekrem,

you started betting too?

No, I'm just looking.

I don't have the fucking money anyway.

Right.

-Kami! Two teas! -Coming up!

So?

So, how's it going?

Not bad. You?

Same as always.

I hear you hang out with my dad?

I run into him sometimes.

Where do you guys go?

Where can you go here?

To one fucking teahouse or another.

What the fuck is this?

Hang out with guys your own age.

What's your problem?

What did you say?

You’re like two tribes against one fucking elephant.

Can't you find anyone else?

Don't give me this shit!

We've been busting our asses for years to get the man to quit.

Stick to your own age group!

Go fuck yourself!

What’s wrong if I ran into him twice?

Fuck off and talk to your dad if you have a problem.

Half of the Newly qualified teachers have been posted to the East...

I’d been waiting for two years.

I'm so happy to go anywhere in my country.

I’m crying for Joy, not because of the East.

Ah! When did you get here?

An hour ago.

I got a ride with the barber since you took the car.

-Are they home? -Yes.

The door here was off its hinges,

so I thought I'd fix it.

OK.

Sinan!

Hold this and let's put it back.

Just a second.

Easy there.

Do the top first.

There we go.

Let's go up there sometime.

I found another boulder.

I've dug around it.

It'll take an hour at most. It's not a big job.

What boulder?

Did I come back for that?

No need to yell.

Are you in a hurry?

You never stop.

I’m not about to be part of your show to win favour here.

I don't follow. What show?

Whose favour do I want?

Why ask when you know the answer?

Is fixing a door going to win back the respect you’ve lost?

It's not the door that needs fixing.

So what is it?

I don't know.

Whatever you lack.

What does that mean?

Can’t this kind of thing be done just as a favour?

Someone has to fix the door.

So can't it be fixed purely as a favour?

If you and I don't do it, who will?

You're doing it purely as a favour?

Yes.

You don't think I can?

What's your idea of a favour?

Tell me.

C'mon, let's talk about that.

Sit still!

Why did you agree?

Has your brain stopped?

Cat got your tongue?

Stop pulling!

Wait!

You can't do that by yourself. Raise your arms.

What's up, Gran?

Everyone wants something.

They never think he might be too old for it.

Who's too old for what?

Imam Veysel! He wants your grandpa to sing the azan again today.

So?

He’s too old for it, love.

I worry he'll get muddled.

If he gets muddled,

we'll be a laughing stock!

Where's the imam going?

How do I know? To a wedding, a funeral.

I'm sick of these young imams!

They're all the same.

Then Grandpa could refuse to do it.

Why did he agree?

He's a soft touch.

He borrowed two gold coins and won't even give them back.

- mam Veysel? -Yes.

That's outrageous!

I doubt we'll see that gold again. He won’t ask for it back.

Grandpa!

Yes?

Did Veysel really not give back the gold?

What did you say?

Veysel didn't give back the gold?

No. He takes and takes and never gives back.

It defies belief.

In all my years as an imam, and she's my witness...

I just worry he'll fluff the azan.

God forbid!

The villagers will have a field day.

They’re always after gossip anyway.

Look at these trousers.

Are they too big?

No. They aren't meant to hug you.

And his only worry is his trousers!

Give me that belt.

Low-rise is trendy now, Grandpa.

Well, I'll be damned.

I must have dozed off.

When did you get here?

What’s with sleeping in the sun?

I was worried.

It was shade when I lay down.

Look at you, covered in ants. How can you sleep like that?

They know me. They don't sting.

With the door and the well,

I must've worn myself out.

So you weren't running away the praying time at the mosque?

Well, there's that, too.

But the boulder was the main thing.

I dug it out.

So we just need to haul it out now.

I'm going back to Can. Coming?

Not until that boulder's out.

If it rains midweek, we're in trouble.

OK, then.

I'm off.

What?

Why are you laughing?

You didn’t offer me a ride this morning.

So why now?

I thought you wouldn't come this morning.

Why not? Don’t I come here every weekend?

I thought you might want to go somewhere else today.

Somewhere else? Where?

How do I know?

There must be places you miss.

What does that mean? What are you trying to say?

I'm not trying to say anything.

Anyway, I'm going.

OK, fine. Off you go.

Let me pay his wage

and get Mad Ahmet up here.

Then I'll get a taxi back to Can.

Look how I'm splashing out. With what money?

I didn't have a cent yesterday.

And your mum has my bank card.

Where did all this money suddenly come from?

Suspicious, isn't it?

What are you talking about?

Seriously.

What kind of generosity is that now?

Huh?

And just when 300 lira evaporated into thin air.

-How do you know it was 300? -Exactly! I wonder how I know?

How do you think I know?

Yes, how?

Maybe I know more about it than you.

Think about it.

How might I know?

I may have told you.

Bravo!

You thought you'd cracked it there, but no such luck.

You need more evidence, Columbo!

Don't talk crap.

Follow your lead.

Use some logic.

If it was the workman, he'd have taken the lot.

Why would he only take 300?

-Right? -So?

So maybe it's screamingly obvious.

Why do you keep agonizing?

Look, if it wasn’t the workman, who else could it be?

Do you still not get it?

Get what?

-You're all ears. -No, I'm not.

OK, you’re either messing around or...

Yes, or?

Or what?

C'mon, out with it.

Or what?

Say it.

Or else what?

Or else nothing.

Anyway, I'm going.

C'mon, or what?

You were doing fine until "or what"? What happened?

C'mon, or what?

Columbo, I'm talking to you. Columbo!

Columbo!

He earns good money

but he won't live there.

He says that over there

immorality is rampant.

I met him at the mufti's.

He works in Germany and gets paid over there,

as well as being paid here.

It wasn't a problem before,

but it's begun to bother me now.

At that age, it's worrying.

You have to be reasonable.

True.

Kids never get tired of playing.

What's happening, Nazmi?

It looks like earth.

Kids I guess.

Do you want to get us banished from Earth, too?

Hey, Sinan!

Was it you?

Even you, Imam Veysel, chasing after the forbidden fruit?

It's a sin!

Rubbish!

Don't let the devil tempt you

now that you're up there.

I got Nazmi a cable for his minaret.

On our way, we saw this tree...

And the apples tempted you?

Well, they're hard to resist. Here. Try a bite.

You're right.

You gave us a fright, Sinan.

Nazmi, push that tin closer.

Nazmi...

Sinan is our retired imam's grandson.

He sang the noon azan today.

Really? Great.

I call him my deputy.

Nazmi is the new imam of Sofular Village

and my friend from imam school.

Really? Hello.

Hello.

So what are you up to?

Struggling.

College is done. Now it's exams and jobs.

I hear you're up here a lot.

I guess. Whenever I get the chance.

I'm lucky to see you, imam.

You were away again today. A wedding, was it?

Well...

People send invitations. It's hard to say no.

The mufti’s wife’s who knows what sent an invitation all the way here.

What can you do? I don't even know him.

Go, of course.

But don't keep offloading the azan on my granddad.

They're worried he'll get muddled. The man's 80 and deaf.

He won't get muddled.

And so what if he does?

A devout man like him can be sure of God's mercy.

What do villagers care about God's mercy? He'd be a laughing stock.

Don't worry. Your grandad's strong as an ox.

He helps me a lot, God bless him.

-You mean he's your stand-in? -Exactly. My apprentice!

Good for the old war horse.

Your back is covered in dirt.

Where were you today?

Karadoru Village.

Do they always take gold there too?

Sure!

I thought as a migrant village it might be different.

No, just the same. The place was awash with quarter golds.

But there's something I don't get, Imam Nazmi.

I don't know if it's just me, but...

Are these people not ashamed of being so greedy?

-Am I wrong? -Frankly...

I'm not really sure what you're talking about.

The gold thing.

A guy has a son, give him gold.

His circumcision, more gold.

He marries, divorces, gold, gold, gold.

What's that all about?

Misery and hardship, Sinan. What else?

It's different where I come from.

But don't let it upset you.

But why would you invite a total stranger to a celebration?

Isn't that openly asking for money.

Some people won't pay off their debts

but they would never dream of not bringing gold to celebrations.

I'm afraid you're right.

-As Abu Zarr says... -Who?

Abu Zarr, a companion of the Prophet.

One of his favourites.

The one banished to the desert?

Bravo! You know him?

-Am I supposed not to? -No, of course not!

But not everyone knows him.

Not even most imams. Why? They know the more popular companions.

What are you talking about?

What's popularity got to do with it?

These are the Prophet's companions!

But why do we always quote the most well-known?

Aren't there other important scholars out there?

Nazmi!

Sometimes, when the spark is gone,

people try to resurrect secondary figures.

That's what you're doing.

The most important characters are the most quoted.

It's only natural.

Don't make it

an issue about recognition.

I'm not saying we should favour lesser-known people

but simply look at what they said and thought.

OK, see your point, but...

You're a village imam now,

not a student representative.

You need to sort your ideas.

The Muslim situation speaks for itself.

The world has changed and left us behind.

The world hasn't changed nor have we been left behind.

If you start reforming religion, you open the door

to every human fantasy.

What you're saying is the Koran is incapable

of interpreting today's world.

Which is preposterous!

Some of your observations seem valid,

but your premise seems to be

to resist change on principle.

Then you want change for the sake of change.

But it isn't right to wear blinkers!

God forbid, I'm not talking about anything else

but how does the Almighty address us in the Koran?

As "people of understanding". He asks, "don't you think?"

You can look for anything in the Koran. That's another story.

The Koran is miraculous.

Let's not go there, Nazmi.

Plus, trawling the Koran for arguments to have the last word

is not very dignified.

I'm not trawling for arguments.

Imagine an architect doing a building.

His work is detailed.

He gives the foreman a plan but doesn't tell him how to lay the bricks.

So the builders use their initiative

and add their own interpretation to the building.

OK, but what does the Koran say?

Yes, "People of understanding", but also "dust".

Remember the verse in the Holy Koran.

"We shall regard their deeds and scatter them like dust."

It talks about dust!

We humans are not much.

What are we, in fact?

We're guided by the Holy Book, the Prophet's deeds and sayings,

community consensus and analogy. Why look for alternatives?

We all stick to those guidelines.

If everyone made their own prescription,

there'd be as many religions in the world as there are people.

You see.

But our prescription is signed.

Signed by a doctor.

We go to the pharmacy and ask for a specific medicine.

If they don't have it they offer an equivalent,

with the same active ingredient.

There's no end to this discussion.

It's all down to people.

Speaking for myself, the point I keep coming back to

is the peaceful shade of unquestioning submission.

If you want to believe, you believe. But if you think

you can pierce the mystery

and penetrate God's great wisdom with your limited insight,

that madness is your choice,

but it's definitely not for me.

-You're here? -All done?

Almost, but I'd like to check my sheep before I'm done.

-Will it take long? -No.

-Bring it to the teahouse. -OK.

Is the bike yours?

Yes, just bought it.

What do you think?

Nice. May it serve you well, as the saying goes.

We say "may you wear it out".

What were those old Eastern bloc bikes?

MZs, Jawas...

-And what was that Russian make? -Minsk.

Minks, right.

With that massive ta-ta-ta sound.

The mukhtar still has one that stutters like that.

To run after the big shots.

How's the new mosque going?

No idea.

It's in the hands of the mukhtar and village council.

So we're talking fancy windows, shiny domes

and automatic doors?

No idea. Everyone’s saying something.

How can you not know?

I keep out of it.

When form takes precedence, content suffers.

In the Prophet's day mosques and minarets didn't even exist.

They're novelties, later additions.

That's too harsh, Nazmi!

It's a very complicated subject. Don't get into it.

I'm not out to criticize.

So what if you do? Isn't it worship that matters?

Exactly, Sinan!

In a palace or a hut,

worship is worship. No one disputes that.

But with a negative outlook,

you can always find faults.

What matters here is intent and honesty.

Honesty?

How can we say that?

without self-criticism?

Isn't that an easy way out?

Who needs to self-criticize?

People like you who take the easy way.

Now, Sinan. We already pray every night.

And through these prayers, we reveal all our flaws and failings.

Is there better self-criticism than that?

So do what we like,

then repent at night and relax. La dolce Vita, isn't it?

I'm not saying that, Sinan.

Who would?

Of course we can be weak.

But a believer should show common sense in all matters.

You should be prudent and deliberate.

Why just believers?

Does nobody else need common sense?

No, but a believer tests himself with a higher morality.

And therefore he feels extra responsibility.

Maybe. But he feels it because he’s been told he should.

Why would I want responsibility on a plate?

Nobody's more dependable

than a person who's alone with his conscience and free will.

Because he builds this responsibility, he doesn't receive it.

So he must undertake all the consequences of his acts.

Who says free will is free?

Even if it was, how could you trust it?

It’s not for everyone.

Isn't that why people without the courage choose servitude over existence?

Arivers are born

as furious waterfalls but grow calm on their way to the sea.

But your raging rivers drag along

lots of pebbles and sticks, too.

Just like strong characters drag underdogs and losers with them?

Exactly! That's the point of faith or religion!

How else do you control all those crowds?

Wasn't it mostly believers who created mountains of bones in the past?

In trying to create order, they were worse than the persecutors.

Humanity can't get rid of it, like rabies.

If we generalize, we're bound to make mistakes.

The vast majority of people are believers, aren't they?

Because man’s moral backbone is faith.

How can you say that?

Why is the crime rate so low in atheist countries then?

That means being just and moral has nothing to do with faith or religion.

Then wouldn't people feel all alone in this vast universe?

The crime rate may be low in those countries,

but the suicide rate is high.

People don't commit crimes, but they aren't happy either.

Which would you prefer?

Someone wrote that if the truth was proven to be outside Islam,

he'd rather choose Islam than the truth.

Which proves the famous argument that faith is wanting not to know the truth.

Doesn't it?

No more questions, Your Honour.

Faith is belief in the unfathomable?

What?

Belief in the unknown.

Sinan, look. The bottom line is this.

Would you want to live in a world where God exists

or one where he doesn't?

If it was up to me,

I'd want to live in a world where He exists.

Does that change anything?

Change what?

Does what I want change anything?

It's not about that.

Wanting it

allows you to feel it.

What more can I say?

I don't have the authority to say more.

I don't have the authority.

What do you say, Imam Nazmi?

There's a poem by Yunus Emre.

"I walk along a road,

"I see a tree standing tall,

"So charming, so sweet,

"My heart..."

How does it go?

Yunus Emre...

What did Ibn Arabi say?

"The god you worship is under my feet."

They killed him!

A man of faith and they killed him!

So what did he mean?

He's back with your bike.

No, he's off elsewhere.

I lend the man the bike.

He pretends not to see you!

I didn’t lend it to him so he could ride off-road.

It's dirty and scratched.

So whenever it rains,

water goes in the scratches

and you get rust and mould.

You end up at the mechanic's

and never get your bike back.

You're down there every week.

I was saying...

You sit here.

-What was it? -She's started wearing the veil.

What?

Janet Jackson's wearing the veil.

Give me a break!

A load of bullshit.

Fikret!

Three teas!

Talk about hard workers! The man never stops.

Who?

Your dad.

Idris is a great guy. Forget what anyone else says.

Good God!

So he's a great guy?

What do you mean by "great"?

Good, conscientious.

Don’t say things for the sake of it.

Why would I?

I meant it.

Weekdays he teaches,

on weekends he works in the village.

He'd hardly do it for fun.

Of course not.

But it sucks!

No one can help. It's his own decision.

I mean...

He was such a decent guy,

such a gentleman.

I don't know how he got into stuff like that.

There's nothing not to understand.

His thing is basically a revolt against the absurdity of life.

But if, despite all the contradictions,

you can stay positive,

if you can curb your desires, renounce yourself...

Let's drop it. It's tricky.

Then life won't seem absurd.

We're all sloshing around in a glass of water.

Let's just call it fate and move on.

Don't give me fate! You're into easy answers now!

Abuse, sins, crimes... Are you calling them fate now?

Disappointments are fate's fault.

Successes are our own doing.

That's how it is, Sinan. You're so bitter.

Let people find comfort where they can.

What's wrong with that?

You'll warn me about being

on tricky ground again, but...

Can we just leave it?

Look how nice it is instead.

I can smell the earth again since I stopped smoking.

Are you done?

Yes. Thanks.

-You're back early. -Yes. The key's in the bike.

OK.

Thanks.

Who dumped that cement there?

I don't know.

Jump on, Sinan. Let's feel that wind.

What?

I'll take you for a spin.

We aren't kids, for God's sake!

Why? We're riding it every day.

Riding is one thing, but "going for a spin"...

-I don't need that. -But the shock absorbers are wicked.

Like a plane.

That's my point!

With gadgets getting so good, sacred things no longer hit the spot.

But there's more need for spirituality than ever.

As the Prophet said, every age will get progressively worse,

until Doomsday arrives.

But with the role technology plays in your lives,

isn't it hard to embrace the arguments you must advocate as imams?

Do you have some other agenda here?

Is humanity doomed because I ride a bike?

Look at the state of the world and you're hung up about my bike!

Guys my age drive automatic cars

and I'm stuck here...

I heard the other day about a pilgrim in Mecca,

who threw his iPhone by mistake during the stoning ritual.

Myth merging with reality, the abstract with the concrete.

Has religion helped to rid communities of bad habits, poverty and addiction?

Yes. Isn't that what matters?

And people's own reality?

Doesn't religion also stop people

attaining their own truth?

Doesn’t it do that by defining the world for them?

How can you be so sure what people really want?

No one wants to find their own truth or anything.

So-called 'man' is always busy

carving things out to his advantage.

Continuously!

On the contrary,

people try to escape their reality.

Everyone's busy saving their own ass!

But isn't everyone bound to each other by invisible threads?

Call it fate or call it causality.

It makes no difference.

But no one should consider themselves pure as the driven snow.

Yes.

He may have lost a lot on the horses.

His house, car, honour, pride,

respectability.

But aren't your salaries paid

with the ill-gotten gains of horse races or the lottery?

Look, I wasn't implying anything about your dad.

If you're angry about that, you've got the wrong idea.

No, I'd say if I was offended.

But still, I’d rather certain things were clear before being discussed.

Of course.

Teachers car for sale

The Wild Pear Tree

Look who’s got it easy!

If only all schools were as relaxed.

Right?

Things are cool here. Not many students.

What's up? Something wrong?

-I'm just back from Qanakkale. -So?

Mum called.

They've cut off the power.

She said you get your overtime today.

I've come to take it to get the power back.

There is no money. It didn't come through.

It didn't come through?

So what do we do? What do I tell her?

How do I know?

Say what you like.

Merve!

You want me to come over?

Well, do you?

OK, then.

I'm going.

OK.

Why are you sleeping at this time?

Did you see your dad?

Yes.

Is it fixed?

No, he didn't give me the money.

What do you mean?

He claims he didn't get it.

The payment didn't come through.

He was supposed to get it today.

He says he didn't.

But he was filling in coupons or something in the classroom.

Wherever the money came from.

-He was filling in coupons? -Yes. Then he hid them with his arm.

As if I wouldn't see it!

Why didn't you stop him if you saw it?

You could've taken the money.

How? By fighting him?

Why not?

Fight.

Aren't you a man?

Sure, right. In front of the students.

If you don't, who will? Me?

So you’re a namby-pamby?

Mum, cut the crap!

Didn’t I tell you to grab his pay before he spent it?

Did I send you for decoration?

Didn’t you say the power’s off and the fridge stinks?

That your sister's studying at a friend's?

Stop it, Mum!

You can borrow the money tomorrow.

Sure! Begging is easy.

You try it.

Did I tell you to marry him?

You have to take the bitter with the sweet.

You insisted despite everybody trying to stop you.

You're impossible to talk to.

Am I supposed to not answer?

You say the last word straight off.

I can never confide in you.

Anyway, here you go.

That’s yours.

What is it?

So the book's out?

-When did it come out? -Today.

For dearest Mum,

It’s all thanks to you and for you alone.

Sinan

Don't cry!

Why are you crying?

So I'm not that useless after all.

I'm so happy.

I always knew you'd achieve something.

I never lost my faith in that. Never.

Sometimes...

people badmouthed you,

but I never listened.

Some even said you weren't normal or implied you were insane.

You can't imagine what I had to deal with.

It’s normal to call someone insane if no one understands them.

They can go to hell. I didn't believe any of them.

I knew that because you were special,

some of your ways were different.

Let those backbiters see you now.

This is...

fantastic.

Really fantastic!

A great fat book.

And lots of small print.

I don't know how you wrote it.

On an empty stomach, in hostels.

I don't know how you managed.

OK, Mum. Don't overdo it!

All I've done is publish a book.

We don't even know if it's good.

If what's good?

The book.

It's written and published, but will anyone actually like it?

Of course they will! Why wouldn't they?

Or will it stir up a hornet's nest?

Anger, disgust, resentment...

maybe even court cases?

Court cases?

Who knows? The truth isn't always popular.

How did you find the money, by the way?

You said you didn't have any.

I haggled.

And borrowed a bit, too.

But not much.

Debt isn't Mr Loser's monopoly.

It's my turn.

And at least mine is for a worthy cause.

Don't say that.

Say what?

Mr Loser?

That describes him well.

What else can I call him?

Or was he a winner once and kept it hidden?

He should be glad to get off so lightly.

True, he's been trouble.

But it kills me at times to see him like this.

Oh, C'mon! Make your bed and sleep in it.

Well, let's see who you end up marrying.

God forbid!

We haven't seen any girlfriends.

Isn't there anyone?

Of course not.

Why?

Why do you think?

I'm a peasant. I'm poor.

I'm unemployed.

Isn't that enough?

What do you mean, peasant?

I'm not expecting a princess.

Everyone's a peasant here.

If I did marry, she wouldn't be from here anyway.

What's wrong with people from here?

Forget it.

You'd never understand. There's no point.

So you understand everything and we understand nothing?

Exactly, if this man was the best you could do.

What more can I say?

What was I supposed to do?

They'd lined up another man.

But your dad was young, handsome,

he had a way with words.

-And he was educated as well. -There you go!

You shouldn't complain then.

He had such an incredible way with words...

he'd make you stop dead in your tracks.

When everyone else was talking about money

and calculating who owned what,

he spoke of the smell of the earth, of lambs

and the colour of the fields.

That hasn't changed.

Maybe we get annoyed now when he talks like that,

but in those days,

I couldn't hear enough of it.

And I was only 16.

I'd never met anyone like him.

So I ran away with him.

But still,

if we were to turn back the clock

and I was allowed to choose again,

knowing what I know now,

I'm sure I'd do the same thing all over again.

I mean, I'd marry your dad again.

Yes. Crazy, maybe, but true.

You're something else!

He sold our home to fund his gambling and you're still defending him!

I'm not trying to defend him.

I'm saying what I feel.

You know what?

You're all the same.

You women, you're all crazy.

No, we aren't the same.

Yes you are. Believe me.

Sometimes you think this one's different,

when lo and behold, out comes the same old stuff.

You're always so over-the—top.

All that love, all that mushy, gooey emotion,

I don't get where it comes from.

Take me, for example.

I don't like people.

I can't bring myself to. What can I do?

I have nothing against animals or nature.

But I have no patience with people.

I can't stand them.

If there's such a thing

as a writer who loathes people.

Good grief!

Why's the fridge empty?

Guess. I took it to the neighbours.

But why?

You even need to ask? There's no power! You want the food to rot?

OK.

You didn't give Sinan any money.

No, I didn't.

Why not?

I wonder why.

Maybe the money didn't come through.

Why not?

How would I know, Asuman?

Stop lying for goodness sake!

What lies?

I have to babysit at my age because of you.

You think it's easy?

I've been babysitting for 25 years. A whole army of kids.

-It's not the same. -Of course it is.

No, it isn't.

How many times have I told you? No fights in front of the kids.

The kids? You think they're blind?

These fights damage the kids. I know, I'm a teacher.

A teacher! What kind? A horses teacher?

Stop that!

If you had no money, what were the coupons in the classroom?

What coupons? What classroom?

Spare me! Don't act it!

I'm not, Asuman. What the hell gives you that idea?

Fine, carry on gambling!

Let's just see if you get to retire in one piece.

Our only hope is that bonus. I'm terrified you'll sabotage it.

So carry on, keep gambling.

What you did wasn't nice at all.

-What? -You know what!

It's called snitching.

And what makes you think

I was doing the horses at school?

-I saw! -What did you see that I didn't?

Didn’t you hide a paper when I came in?

-Yes. -So?

Why didn't you ask me there?

Ask what?

You can't say things like that

without being totally sure.

You pass the sentence without a trial

and execute it without shame.

Aren't you above that?

Don't give me that!

Why hide it if it wasn't a betting coupon?

Have your betting coupon!

It's all a game.

All I do is gamble.

There, take it.

Lost dog!

What was he throwing away?

Nothing.

He says he was drawing a "lost dog" poster.

I think he’s making it up.

I woke up the other night and found him gone from the bed.

There was an odd whine coming from far away.

I got up, went to the living room and found him there.

He was crying in the dark.

What? How do you mean?

Crying?

He was whimpering like I've never heard before.

-Good God! -Like he had stomach pains.

Why was he crying?

His dog's missing, you know.

Weird.

Has he really made such a big deal of it?

Even worse.

You feel sorry for him and annoyed at the same time.

Because I know, God forbid, that if anything happened to one of us,

he wouldn’t turn a hair.

But when a mere dog goes missing, what dramas!

Posters on walls, poles, posts.

Nightmares at night.

Good God!

That’s kind of surprised me.

His dog is the only living thing that doesn’t judge him.

He says so, too.

Did he really say that?

Yes.

That’s really funny.

It’s started snowing.

What happened to those?

I told you. Not even a minute.

-What happened? -Don't ask.

We moved them by the boiler so they wouldn't get trampled on.

We worried you might be angry, though.

Then Murphy's Law struck.

Rain leaked through the window.

The packets got damp, but nothing serious.

A few are discoloured, that's all.

None of them are creased.

Well, not really.

So tell me, have you read it?

You started it, Yasemin. Did you finish?

I have no time after studying.

It didn't go anywhere.

That's true.

But you changed the fridge?

Fridge, extractor, her laptop,

her phone, our debts...

That used up the retirement bonus.

So where's the shepherd? In the village?

The shepherd barely comes back now.

No wonder it's so quiet in the house.

I'm not sure if that's a good thing.

The shepherd's living in his father's storeroom.

What storeroom?

That damp, rat-infested room under the house.

There you go.

He's found his place.

Father and son can build a love nest.

Very!

Hi.

Hey! How are you?

Good. How about you?

Not bad. Struggling along.

I wanted to ask about my book sales.

How did it go?

What was it?

The Wild Pear Tree.

Ah, wild pear. OK.

I remember now.

We had it on display for 4-5 months, but it didn't sell.

So we took it off the shelves.

Really?

-Not a single sale? -No.

I'll give them back if you like,

or we can have another go in summer.

Keep them here.

OK.

I'll drop by again.

-Have a good day. -Thanks.

The Lost Children of Ida

Literature in Qanakkale - Sinan Karasu

Jamukha!

Quiet boy!

Well, well!

Welcome.

Good to have you back.

Thanks.

Are you done now?

I guess.

That's good.

How do you like my new palace?

Good.

And my new friends?

No expense spared!

-So how are you doing? -Not bad.

You're lucky to catch me here.

I was just off to get some bales.

Yucel has super-dry ones at the old school.

I was going there.

So, was it tough?

No, but only time drags on.

It's the same day in, day out.

So how are you getting the bales here?

Yucel has a pickup truck.

He's got a tractor, too, but forget that.

Let's go then.

What?

Really?

Yes.

Let's get the sheep inside then.

And let's get that done.

It's turned out well.

You got back yesterday?

Yes.

Have you seen your grandad?

No. I checked your room then came here.

-He's all steamed up again.

About that room being his.

Grandad?

Yes.

He's telling the world he'll throw me out if I annoy him.

So I stay here mostly.

I keep away from there.

They love this stuff. They eat a ton of it.

I plan to grow some next year.

Buying it

costs too much.

I'm worn out.

How's the well by the way?

-Is it done? -The less said the better.

The villagers were right this time.

I didn't find any water.

What?

-Are you sure? -Yes.

I dug 10 metres deep and still nothing.

All that time and effort wasted.

Forget digging a well...

it was more like a journey to the centre of the Earth.

So you're admitting defeat?

Exactly.

If I'd been proven right

it would've been good.

But it's too bad, I wasn't.

They proved to be right again.

But never mind.

That’s fine, too.

"A timely retreat is a victory."

That’s my consolation.

So?

Military service is over.

What are you going to do now?

I don't know.

Either teach in the East and waste my youth like you

Or get some irrelevant job here

and waste my youth that way.

What do you think I should do?

Everyone has different expectations.

If you love what you do, you can survive anywhere.

Like most teachers, I started out in the desolate villages of the East.

As you well know.

Terrorism was at its peak then.

I'd dreamt of other things, but never mind.

Whose dreams come true just like that?

I experienced so much. I met such incredible people.

I've forgotten most of it, but even forgetting has its appeal.

People should float in time a little.

Good and bad memories should merge

and dim and melt away.

There are those that should stay, too.

Carving a notch in time.

You address the time thing in your book, for example.

I liked that.

Have you read the book?

Of course I have.

And I've even read some parts twice.

Really?

Are you serious?

Of course I am. Why?

I don't know.

It's the first time I've come across anyone who's read it.

I'm kind of surprised.

Here it is.

My best friend!

And don't think I didn't notice where you talk about me.

You don’t say great things about me,

but that's how it should be.

The young should criticize the old.

That's how progress works.

It wasn't really meant as criticism, but...

Did you read the "Wild Pear Tree" chapter?

Of course.

Oh, for wild pears!

I got that from what you told us at primary school.

I'm glad to have been some use.

In those days, school teachers

were freer to stray from the curriculum.

A good thing, too!

We could stretch the curriculum according to the region.

Without upsetting the balance.

So I told you things like that, yes.

There was a wild pear tree opposite the school.

You showed it to us.

You're right.

There's one over there, too.

You know, sometimes things I see in you, me and even Grandad

remind me of a wild pear tree.

I don't know. We're all misfits, solitary,

misshapen.

Everyone has their own temperament.

The thing is being able to accept and like it.

The fruit of wild pears is misshapen like you say.

But I have it for breakfast some days and it's so good.

My point is, yes, human nature is as full of oddities as animal nature.

I grew up here, for example, but I mixed up dog and jackal tracks.

Turns out there’s a small bulge at the back of a jackal print.

Do you still get jackals here?

Absolutely!

We'll hear them howling down by the stream.

What was I saying?

A sheep went missing once.

No sign of it anywhere.

I thought the jackals got it.

I felt sad and got over it.

One evening, going back to the village,

I heard a cry in the forest.

I walked on, ears pricked. And what did I see?

She’d given birth in the forest. Twins.

The lambs weren't standing yet.

I picked them up and brought them here.

There.

Listen.

The concert has begun.

Is that a jackal?

It certainly is.