Road Stories: The Gypsy Girl and the Teddy Bear

Have you ever had a place close to you, always on your list of places to see, but you never visited for years? I’m talking about natural wonders, museums, or tourist spots in your own city. Those places you think you can visit anytime because they’re so close, so you always prioritize places farther away. Or those you don’t care about because they’re not in your area of interest. Places that are so much a part of your life yet so distant from you or your personality.

I met Uncle Sabri while walking through the Gaziantep Mosaic Museum. As I admired the mosaics, he followed me step by step. He stayed close enough to be annoying in a normal situation, wanting to say something but unable to. Wherever I stopped, he stopped. He looked at the mosaics with me and then immediately turned to the information boards. Whenever I moved, he shifted slightly.

 A Strange Mythological Tale

We love to judge, don’t we? Just from a distance, you’d think something’s wrong here. Uncle Sabri didn’t seem to belong in the museum corridors. With a market bag in his hand and a small brown teddy bear inside, we were in a mythological story together. Soon, the water nymph Naias would come to life, raise her head from the grass she lay on, and say, “One of you has lost your way, tell me which one of you.” We were such an absurd pair. I thought about striking up a conversation, saying, “Isn’t it beautiful?” But I stayed silent. I walked, he walked. I stopped, he stopped.

Finally, I finished all the corridors outside. I headed towards the Gypsy Girl, which was my main reason for being there. While the corridors were not very crowded, there was a small line in front of the Gypsy Girl mosaic. After a few people ahead of me, I reached the Gypsy Girl in her special room. Enchanted by the soothing music playing inside, I looked into her legendary eyes. I couldn’t see their faces in the dark, but there were two others in the room with me. It didn’t take long to realize one of them was Uncle Sabri. We exited together. Finally, he couldn’t hold back and spoke.

“Would anyone mind if I went back in again?” he asked. Actually, I was eager to go back in too. We entered together, chatting. With trembling hands, he took photos of the Gypsy Girl, not caring about their quality. I had many questions to ask—from where he was from to where he was going. I looked at his face, caught between laughter and tears, with trembling hands and teary eyes. Finally, he said, “I didn’t take very good pictures, but they’ll look nice when printed,” while looking at the photos on his phone. When I told him I didn’t like the photos he took, I suggested he could find higher resolution ones online to print. “Then I can’t say I took them to my grandchild,” he replied. His voice was truly tearful, and I could feel the smile in his eyes fading in the darkness.

Big-Eyed Gypsy Girl!

For years, Uncle Sabri has been visiting his big-eyed granddaughter, whom he affectionately calls his Gypsy Girl, in the hospital. With a bag in his hand, containing a teddy bear, he goes to see the Gypsy Girl in the museum, whom he had never seen before despite living in the city for years. He entered a museum for the first time in his life to tell his granddaughter, who has been part of his family for years, what he saw and understood. I ran out of words in front of him. I couldn’t console him, so I described the museum as best as I could. “I will always visit from now on,” he said, “and I will bring my Gypsy Girl once she gets better.” “She’s very curious about such trips, she would love to wander around with a backpack like yours,” he said. No matter how the conversation changed, it always came back to his Gypsy Girl. At some point, I just listened to him as we walked outside. I headed to the gift shop to buy a keychain. Uncle Sabri picked out two keychains, one for his grandchild and one for me. Now I was his guest. With the generosity you can only see in Turkey, he paid for both keychains. We exchanged blessings and said goodbye.

As I sat outside the museum, drinking my coffee, I called out to the nature god Dionysus and the water nymph Naias.

“”May the Gypsy Girl and Uncle Sabri’s eyes smile, , and may they hit the road together…”

Published on August 26, 2020, in Gezgin Gazetesi.