Saturday, 23 June 2012

ANZAC Day, Gallipoli, Turkey.

So a week or so before April 25th, I decided I would make the journey to Gallipoli and take part in my very first AZAC Day Dawn Service. It is only about 2 hours drive from my farm so I thought I would be stupid (and un-Australian) for me not to make the effort- and nowI'm so glad I did.

Me and my American companion, Nick, started our adventure by hitchhiking into the nearest town. We then got another ride with two gentlemen going to a beautiful beachside town, Assos, which we had visited just the week before. While it was sort of counterproductive to go with them as it was a bit off our course, we ended up going and having a coffee, or kave, with them by the seaside. While it was such a generous gesture, the whole time I was sitting on the edge of my seat waiting to leave as I was under the impression I needed to arrive at the ANZAC Cove by early arvo. However I was to find out later that this was not the case. But oh well. Before parting ways they gifted us both with a Snickers and dropped us off at a prime hitching spot.

We were picked up in no time and were back on the right trail. We were taken outside a small town amd we very grateful to be closer to our destination. While waiting on the side of the road for a ride we bumped into two cyclists who were on a 5 day ride up the coast.




 On this particular day everyone we spoke to could talk quite good Engliah, which was very unusual for us. These guys were studying in Ixmir and invited us to stay with them if we ever visited the city. We took photos and exchanged emails and went our separate ways. In less than 2 minutes a women driver with her daughter in the back picked us up. It tuned out she was also heading to Gallipoli and then onto Istanbul, so we were able to cross the dardenelles with great ease in her car on the ferry- she even bought us something to eat. On this trip it has become even more plain to see just how generous the Turkish people are.

So we arrived in Gallipoli in record time, got a couple of mini-buses as I still thought we were short on time and didnt want to risk hitching more. Then started to walk along the most beautiful coast line I have seen outside of Australia, towards the ANZAC Commemorative Site. This stretch of beach reminded me so much of home, and had it not been prohibited to swim in it I would have dove straight in!





Half way along the path we start to see signs warning us what can and cannot be taken into the Site. Nick looked at me with slight panic and reminded me of his newly acquired Swiss Army Knife that lay snug in his pockets in his hand-knitted knife-pouch. We decided to hide it in the bottom of my back in a secret compartment so it wouldn't get confiscated. However further along the walk the sings said we would be getting scanned on a similar level to the airport. So at this I panicked and moved the knife into the central compartment, so it didn't look like we were smuggling it in.



(Beach Memorial Site)

When we got to the scanners I hesitated and asked Nick to take the bag instead of me, however he thought this would look too suspicious and told me to 'be cool'. So I smile sweetly, and when they pulled out the knife I acted cool and said I had forgotten I had it in there, and if they had to they could confiscate it as I was determined to get in. However for the next 5 minutes I was thrown ariund to various authorities, and used as an example to others waiting to be scanned that knives were not allowed- I'm not gonna lie, I felt a bit like a school kid caught with pokemon cards. But finally I met up with the right people- some Turks as well as Aussies. I showed off my Turkish to the Jandarma (Turk Police) and their smiles assured me I was in no great trouble.
I handed over my knife to a very friendly Aussie gentlemen who said I could come and collect it after the ceremony the next day.

I then had to re-line up to get scanned once more. While waiting I was offered chai by the Jandarma and had a vey limited conversation in Turkish, including explaining why I was wearing VW pants which they all found very amusing. One man in particular even swapped emails with me and got our photos taken!

When I was finally on the otherside and reunited with Nick, I couldn't help but see the irony of the situation- the only person who had attempted to bring a weapon into a service dedicated to Peace between Australia and Turkey, was the American I brought along for the ride.

Inside the site we were amazed with the number of attendants. We found the tiniest spot on the grass, really only suitable for 1.5 people to sleep, and lay out our matts and sleeping bags. From 10:30pm that night until 6:30am the next morning, there was non-stop activity. There was people from Australia, turkey and New Zealand giving speeches, short films and documentaries about the battle and surrounding war and a band playing many national Australian songs from my childhood. I found myself, once again being taken back to memories of my childhood in primary school when I learnt those songs for the first time almost 15 years ago.








As dawn creeped a little closer, everyone was awake and ready for the ceremony to begin. All of a sudden a strong, emotion-filled voice filled the air. The Mouri voice was so powerful and pure, I had never heard such a song before and it really took my breath away.
This was followed by more speeches, one in particular got a great reception- when Julia Gillard ('JG' I heard many people calling her) entered the stage. then a poem was read by an Australian soldier that is one that I think we all know and which I really enjoy and connect with-

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.




There was a mad rush after the ceremony as the crowd dispersed to make their way to the next ceremonies. The Australians had to hike up a huuuuge hill, in the scorching sun to get to the Lone Pine Reserve. I was being overtaken by so many old people, I felt quite unfit in the moment! Upon reaching our destination we entered a moderately sized stadium, surrounding a single, lone pine tree. Around this monument plaques dotted the ground, their white stone shining in the morning sun. Each individual square was dedicated to an Aussie soldier, fallen during the war. Quotes, praises and prayers of loved ones were carved into the stone with love that is still alive and felt today, not only by their families but by me as I read each memory.



The ceremony was more great Aussie songs, some of my favorites included; We are Australian, I Love a Sunburnt Country and Waltzing Matilda (I tried to teach this to Nick but there are too many words he didn't even recognize eg. Swagman, billabong, coolabah tree, billy, jumbuck, tucker bag. So pretty much the entire song haha). JG also made another appearance which was followed a round of "Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi Oi Oi". I have never felt more Aussie in my whole life than in these 24 hours.

Then once more important officials made their speeches the ceremony came to an end. As Nick and I were trying to get out of our chairs there was an announcement over the loudspeaker..." before you all hard off folks there are 2 more things I need to say," my heart sank in my stomach, with an all too familiar feeling that something embarrassing was about to happen in front of alot of people...it was like primary school assemblies all over again.
I have to be honest I don't remember what his first point was, but then came...
" and can we have an Ashlei Priest up to the front of the stage, we seem to have her pocket knife."
The crowd around me, unaware the culprit was right under their nose, started to gossip-" how did she get a knife in?!" etc etc.
I swear I have never felt more awkward in my life as I snuck up to the front of the stage to the man holding my forbidden possession. He was very kind and smiled sweetly as he placed the knife in it's pink knitted knife-holder back in my palm. I thanked him quickly then scurried back into the crowd, back to Nick to return his symbol of violence and intolerance.






Now the worst part was over, it was all uphill (well technically downhill) from here on out.

We slept by the beach for a couple of hours, catching up on lost sleep and soaking in the glorious suns rays as I felt a new sense of homeliness sit warm inside me.

Our hitching back home was as simple as 3 cars. As soon as I was out of the first car I stuck my thumb out and BAM another car was there. Then before buying a ferry ticket I thought I would just walk up to a car and see if they would take us in with them instead. Just my luck the first car I asked let us in, he was very friendly and happened to be on his way to Izmir, whose road goes straight past our farm. He spent the whole journey calling his doctor friend who spoke english to try and help us have some small conversation, it was all very comical. He even took us to a cliffside chai stop with beautiful views over the bay and of Greece.

Then finally we got to the road to our farm. We said our good byes, then within 2 minutes a truck picked us up and dropped us off right outside the gates to the Dedetepe.





























Home Sweet Home.

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