[An Armenian village]

Last Sunday I went with Aunt Caro to Yegheki, a village about an hour and a half away, down on the plain. She had to tell them that the teacher for their boys' school whom they expected had stayed in another village. Now they must give up the boys' school for the year. We went first to the pastor's house where we were welcomed very cordially. Two of his six daughters are in our school. The oldest who is about seventeen is going to teach this year. We sat down in a room where some of "the brethren" were sitting with the pastor. After some twenty minutes we went to the chapel close by for the regular morning service. After this Aunt Caro had a meeting with the women. After she had spoken I said a few words which she translated. They are a simple, demonstrative, friendly people. One of them patted my cheek. They often do that. The chapel was bright and neat-very. You would smile to see in an American church what I saw there,- two very large cards exactly alike bearing in illuminated letters, in Armenian of course, the words "God bless our home." They were hung one on each side of the pulpit. On our way to the village we rode by vineyards and near gardens, and I saw "a lodge in a garden of cucumbers" indeed, a good many of them. In this particular place the cucumbers happened to be melons, but the custom is the same for either fruit. A little booth is built of boughs or if they are unobtainable, possibly the booth is covered with cloth. The people stay in the gardens and in the vineyards days and night to watch the fruit to save it from thieves. We rode by several cotton fields, also. [Page 142]

[Holy trip]

The particular peak which we climbed is a holy place to Turks,Kurds and Armenians alike. They all sacrifice there. We could see the blood on the stones. We asked "Andrew" some particulars about the sacrificing later. He said it was for sickness and that a lamb was usually killed. We asked him if he had ever sacrificed a lamb there and he said he had. The rocks are piled up strangely. Each pilgrim to the spot puts up a "stone of remembrance". We saw some piled up so as to form a cross. Tho' it was a hot day below, there was a strong cold wind on the mountain top. We found flowers there which had ceased to bloom and dried up long before on the plain. On the way down we stopped at some Koordish tents out of curiosity. Ellsworth found some Koords there whom he had visited last year. The tents are a dark brown, woven from goat's hair. They are like those which Paul probably made. Under the open sides stones and brambles are piled to form a wall on three sides of the tent. They brought us rugs to sit on and were very courteous in their fashion. They insisted upon bringing us food, tahn (whey) for Ellsworth and goats' milk for me. It was the best milk I have had in Turkey. Then our old white-bearded host, Ali (Ahlee) brought us butter or rather madzun in a lordly dish and most delicious bread and cheese. It was a royal feast. I don't know whether the sweetness came from the food itself or the long climb. A woman tried to talk to me, but my side of the conversation was limited to Yah or Huh, with varying inflections. She took me to see all the other tents. The descent was by a new and more travelled path and was easier. We came home by the shore of the lake, about ten miles from the foot of the mountain. We saw quantities of storks wading in the marshes, as well as wild ducks and gulls. I was rather tired the next day and just scorched as to my face. We bathed and read and loafed near the tent. On Sunday our program was similar, without the bathing, and we sat where we are sitting at this very moment near the shore under the shadow of some mulberry and willow trees. We go to bed comparatively early here and get up at about six. [pages 202-3]

[Turkish women]

There was an old toothless woman in coarse village clothing and with a voice as deep as a man's. She smoked her cigarette with the rest. Her husband has three other wives. She was a pitiful object to me. Then there was a very pretty young girl with teeth and hands and eyes too, that any American beauty might envy. She was playing with a doll of a baby. I found that she was the mother of the child, and was eighteen years old. She looked younger. We were offered cigarettes and later sherbet and coffee. The Turkish lady herself honored us by waiting upon us. She was the most refined-looking Turkish woman I have seen. Her trailing silk dress was a broad white and purple stripe and her delicate little shawl was of silk. She wore a dark handkerchief upon her head and many rings on her hands, and bracelets-four or five-on each wrist. The mother was barefooted and wore a common cotton dress. She or the mother asked Aunt Caro to read the Bible. They had heard her read it before. Then the Turkish lady came up close so that Aunt C. might "read over her." She felt as if there were a sort of charm in the reading. She showed us a beautiful copy of the Koran, but I hardly believe she has ever read a word of it, if she is able to read at all. The other women looked on with a mixture of indifference and curiosity. [pages 190-91]

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