A message to Circassians on International Women's Day

8 March 2012 - It is International Women's Day and there needs to be more women Circassian activists and men that support and work alongside them.


Women are, or will be in the future, mothers of our nation. Besides the reverence we place in the Nart's Setenay or the lore of Circassian beauties, in the past Circassian women raised the warriors and defended our homes when our men fought in the battlefields. Women nurtured our customs and passed on our language. (I would not be surprised if there were Circassian women fighting with our men.) The women of our history were fearless, tenacious, patient, and had incredible courage. With these qualities, Circassian women kept Circassia together.


Many young Circassians (males & females) today are taught that to continue our existence on this Earth, it will be enough to "just marry a Circassian". But this is not the case. We see very high numbers of marriages outside our nation. Our language and customs are endangered. Our people are being killed and our human rights are practically non-existant. It is naïve to think "just marrying within our nation" will solve the problems of our nation. This can not be the end point of our destiny. This cannot be the end of our responsibilities.


Like in our past, Circassian women today are the linchpins of our families, societies, and nation. 


Today, more than ever, we must wholly embody the noble qualities of our grandmothers in the past. It is true: it is our responsibility to continue our existence. To do so we must educate ourselves and pursue professions that will ultimately aid in achieving a free Circassia. We must have the patience and the tenacity to face challenges and resilient enough to not drown in them. We must be fearless in demanding our human rights. We must be courageous so that future generations can be inspired from our bravery.

And a note to Circassian men, young and old: Recognize the very important role of the Circassian woman. Engage regularly with the womenfolk of society and value their opinions and wisdom. They will be marrying you or your sons and raising your children. A nation is only as strong as the strength of all its parts, and we want Circassia to be as strong as possible.

Questions for Thought...

Mr. Walter Richmond, a researcher of Circassian Genocide and author of The Northwest Caucasus: Past, Present, and Future is writing a new book based on findings of the Circassian Genocide from Tbilisi State Archives in Georgia. The following questions and answers will be used as research for the new publication.

Please be a part of this great project. Answer these questions and email them to circassiapassport@gmail.com as soon as possible. It will than be forwarded to the author.

Thank you!

1. Did your family ever talk about any Circassian “heroes” in exile, people who the community looks up to as a role model?
2. Did your family ever share any general stories from the history of Circassians in exile?
3. Do you or anyone you know believe that “hijra” was a factor in your ancestors’ decision to emigrate?
4.  How knowledgeable are you concerning Circassian history prior to the Russo-Circassian War?
5. What other Circassian communities have you been physically in touch with? Do you think the common bonds are greater than the differences caused by living in different host countries?
6. How frequently do you talk to other Circassians via the internet? What countries do you communicate with? What do you talk about?
7. Do you argue with your Circassian friends and acquaintances? What is the main point of contention?
8. Which websites devoted to Circassian issues do you visit? Do any of them do a “good” job, in your opinion?
9. What is the number one factor in preserving Circassian identity?
10. Which is more important as an issue to be pursued: right of return or minority rights in the host countries?
11. How would you describe the effort to preserve the Adyge language?
12. In your opinion, how have the Circassians been able to avoid assimilation to this point?
13. How has the Abkhaz situation affected Circassian affairs?
14. What is your perception of the Russian government’s behavior concerning the Sochi Olympics?
15. Are you concerned that there might be negative repercussions from the activism surrounding the Sochi Olympics?
16. List the languages you speak in order of fluency:
17. What is the greatest challenge you personally face as a member of a displaced nation?

UPDATE: Thanks to our friends at Justice for North Caucasus, these questions have been translated into Turkish & Arabic. We hope all members of Circassia will be able to answer these questions and perhaps, use them in our daily conversations.

Turkish: http://justicefornorthcaucasus.info/?p=1251660162
Arabic: http://justicefornorthcaucasus.info/?p=1251660169

Source: Original post on CircassiaPassport.com 

Circassia...

Every Circassian wants to go HOME.

"Local legends" of the Black Sea

The Globe and Mail's Jeff Parker travels to Gelendzhik - a city on the Black Sea coast of Krasnodar Krai.

Image from weather-forecast.com.
Notice the proximity to Anapa, Maykop, Tuapse, and Sochi.

His guide gives him a tour- sharing some truths and some tall tales. "Doughy beachgoers" are lying on the grounds that used to be concentration camps while Circassians were herded onto boats for the often fatal journey to the Ottoman Empire and a proud mountain that sheltered Circassians in battles from the invading Imperial Russian army has been renamed after a Russian mobile phone company- "MegaFon Mountain".

However, its the last lines of this article that really struck a cord with me:

"Eventually, Igor's uncle admits the meteor stories are nonsense, just local legends. Then he tells us the name Gelendzhik is derived from a Turkish word meaning “little bride.” It originated as a slave market where Turks sold Circassian women.

I ask if this, too, is a nonsense local legend. But he assures me that this one is true."

So the question to my fellow Circassians is-  What honor is there to allow the history of Circassian women being sold to Turks be questioned as a "local legend" or used to spice up a conversation? 

The events that happened during the Circassian Genocide is tragic. But its even more terrible when we do not join in telling the truth.

There are 797 days till the Sochi Winter Olympics are set to completely erase the entire history of Circassians from the world. Stand up, say No Sochi 2014. Demand respect and the right to exist as a nation, so that our history and culture will not become local legends.

Your face is a museum

My grandfather

Picture taken in Golan Heights

When you look in the mirror you see not just your face but a museum. Although our face, in one sense, is your own, it is composed of a collage of features you have inherited from your parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and so on. The lips and eyes that either bother or please you are not yours alone but are also features of your ancestors, long dead perhaps as individuals but still very much alive as fragments in you. We carry the past around with us all the time, and not just in our bodies. It also lives in our customs, including the way we speak. The past is a set of invisible lenses we wear constantly, and through these we perceive the world and the world perceives us. 
We stand always on the shoulders of our ancestors, whether or not we look down to acknowledge them. 

-Author unknown-

One reason...

of why I do what I do and say what I say.

Putin's IOC Speech: Lies of the Sochi Olympics - Hiding the truth of the Circassian Genocide

 
  

Shooting Star, Адыгэ псо

On April 13, 2011 - 11:37pm EST...

Coming home from the Circassian Cultural Institute's lecture on state building in Kabardino- Balkaria, I saw a shooting star. I got happy. I felt blessed. Naturally, I made a wish, that my soul has said so many times waiting to be sealed by an event that is rare, beautiful and awe-inspiring. I do not know when, or if, I will ever witness something like that moment again.

Moments like a shooting star allow room for reflection.

Every Adyghe (or at least most) has a wish, a dream, a desire for a home, a country, a Circassia, to call their own. Yet, are we really exposing our thoughts and souls to each other? To the world? A few are and I applaud them.

So, I call on ALL Circassians to begin this discussion now. We must not be speechless when our amazing shooting star moment arrives.

Адыгэ псо.

(RE)Welcoming!

Welcome to my revamped blog!!

Even though it has been over a year since I last wrote here, I am still the same person with (nearly) similar thoughts as when this blog was first printed in the cyberworld.

However, the person I am today is more focused and I would like my blog to reflect that. Bare with me, it will be a work in progress.

And since I'll always be a nostalgic soul, (and maybe to the delight of my 3 total fans...) I've kept my old posts and labeled them Archive: 2008-2010. Feel free to peruse those ponderings.

So, take a look around. I hope you enjoy. :)

Happy Adyghe New Year!

Courtesy of Amjad Jaimoukha

March 22-- The Circassians (Adyghe) considered this day, when winter was over and summer began (ghere sch’ire schizexech’ maxwem; гъэрэ щIырэ щызэхэкI махуэм), as New Year’s Day. The ancient Circassians had only two seasons: winter (щIымахуэ) and summer (гъэмахуэ).



There were two festivals associated with the New Year: Maf’aschhetih (мафIащхьэтыхь; literally: ‘Hearth Sacrifice’), and X’wrome (хъуромэ; also X’wrame [хъурамэ]). In the first, which was later dubbed ‘Maf’aschhe Jed’ («мафIащхьэ джэд»; ‘Hearth Hen’), the festivities were initiated with a rite of sacrifice in which a black hen was immolated on the altar of the hearth. After the offering had been made, the members of the household whose smoke kept issuing for a whole year assembled in front of the hearth. The elder then said the prayers (тхьэлъэIу; thelhe’w):

With lasting fire in our hearth,
And well-lit and hot stoves,
Lacking no victuals to boil,
Nor crops to cook,
May God see us through next year!

A sumptuous feast was prepared for the occasion, an essential ingredient of which was either heljey (хьэлджей), a large loaf of maize or barley (originally only barley) bread baked in a bread-pan, or x’irshin (хъыршын), pie. The lady of the house cut the heljey or x’irshin into triangular pieces and presented one to each member of the household. Typical dishes and foodstuffs prepared and served included meat (of animal slaughtered for the occasion), chicken, turkey, gravy (шыпс; ships), crushed-millet dumplings (пIастэ; p’aste), fried chicken in sour cream sauce (джэдлыбжьэ; jedlibzche), pastry straws (джэдыкIэрыпщ; jedich’eripsch), short-cakes (тхъурымбей; tx’wrimbey), doughnuts and short-cakes (лэкъум; lequm), pasties (хьэлывэ; helive), pancakes (тхъурыжь; tx’wrizch), sweetmeat (хьэлыуэ; heliwe), and many more.



The celebrants, young and old, did not sleep a wink all night long, whiling away the time playing the game ‘de qeighezhex’ («дэ къегъэжэх»; ‘rolling down the nuts’). It was considered shameful and a bad omen to sleep on that propitious night. At dawn, ‘before the mangy pigs and wolves had the chance to bathe in the river in the new year’ («кхъуэ бэгумрэ дыгъужь бэгумрэ псым илъэсыкIэм зыхамыгъэпскIыхь щIыкIэ»; ‘q’we begwmre dighwzch begwmre psim yilhesisch’em zixamigheps-ch’ih sch’ich’e’), all headed to the river to cleanse themselves, no matter how cold the water was. This was essentially a ritual to harden the body and temper the soul.




In the X’wrome festival, the elders went round the village pronouncing their toasts and the young ones went in a group, called ‘X’wromashe’ («хъуромашэ»), collecting victuals and singing ‘X’wrome’, basically a toast wishing for plentiful crops, good health, prosperity and success. All households donated generously, for it was thought that otherwise the coming year would prove bad to the stingy household. After finishing their round, the groups gravitated towards a designated homestead, where the foodstuffs were cooked and prepared for the feast.

Never doubt...

By Margaret Mead

Small groups can have big impact.

Cowardly Lion, No More

Courage

The Merriam- Webster dictionary defines it as the ability to conquer fear or despair.

I always thought I was brave. I thought I was in control of my life. But I wasn’t. I was only reacting to the things that happened to me. I felt inadequate to do anything for myself. I was not brave enough to be proactive of my own life. I tried to find what was stopping me. What was holding me back? I suffered personally, academically, socially, and even within my family circle. I was the Cowardly Lion.

I feared myself to be overcome by inspiration.
Thus I never realized my true potential.
I feared revealing my true emotions to anyone.
I’ll only hurt myself.
I feared failure towards reaching my goals.
My goals seem so distant and unreachable.
I feared losing anything that meant anything to me.
I’ll feel so forlorn.

But now, courage, I seek you.

With you, I’ll be focus on my dreams and my passions, without fear of failure.
With you, I’ll say ‘I love you’ when I feel love.
With you, I’ll say ‘fuck off’ when I want peace.
And I’ll understand the consequences, but I’ll stay true to my being.

With you, I’ll embrace any opportunity and try anything possible.
With you, I will not be shy to reject people and things that stand in the way of my goals.
With you, I won’t be afraid to stand by my views.
And I’ll defend them and re-examine them regularly.

I do not have any other option.
This yellow brick road is mine.
Don’t hide from me now,…
Courage, I’ll find you.

And when you don't elude me any longer,
I won't allow desertion.

Identity Theft Is No Joke!!

Last night, I received an email from a dear friend of mine...

"Hello
How you doing? I made a trip to London (United Kingdom) unannounced some days back, but Unfortunately I got mugged at gun point last night! All cash, Credit card and phone were stolen, I got messed up in another country, stranded in London, fortunately passport was back in my hotel room. It was a bitter experience and i was hurt on my right hand, but would be fine. I want you to know this is really from em and not a spam or virus, I am sending you this message cos i don't want anyone to panic, I want you to keep it that way for now! My return flight leaves in a few hours but I’m having troubles sorting out the hotel bills, wondering if you could loan me some money to sort out the hotel bills and also take a cab to the airport about ($2,000). I have been to the police and embassy here, but they aren't helping issues, I have limited means of getting out of here, i canceled my cards already and made a police report, I won’t get a new card number till I get back home! So I really need your help.

You could wire whatever you can spare to my name and Location via Western union:

(Name removed for victim's protection)
272, Coriander Avenue, Docklands, E14 2AA ,
London United Kingdom

Get back to me with the western union details so I can have the money pickup here and make my way back to Home. I would def refund it to you once I arrive! Hopefully tomorrow

I await your prompt response."

My friend was a victim of online identity theft. She was never in London; her email was hacked into. A poser used her name and wanted money by making a appeal to her friends-- ones who would rescue the girl by sending over whatever she need.

This is the first time I've seen this type of scam and it can really bamboozle anyone. I even had my own bank account open in another window and I was ready to go to a Western Union to wire any amount I can spare. If it wasn't for a phone call, I would most likely be scammed a few hundred dollars.

So please, regularly change your passwords and safeguard your identity online, treat any request for money with suspicion, and always being cautious of who you give your personal information.

Moment of Zen:

Video Recaps | Full Episodes | Webisodes

Circassians Demanding Rights & Recent Events in North Caucasus

This is a list of articles and links compiled to educate and better understand the seizing of human rights of the Circassian indigenous people while following public protests and violence against Circassian leaders in the North Caucasus, specifically in Kabardino- Balkaria, Karachay- Cherkessk, and Adyghea.
We need more awareness of the troubles in the Caucasus so please share with your family and friends. If you think anything is missing, add by commenting below.
Thank you.
_________________________________________________________

In North Caucasus: Kabardino- Balkaria, Karachay- Cherkessk, and Adyghea

• November 18, 2009
  Moscow Excises “Separatist” Articles from Constitutions of Circassian Republics
  ***Recommended reading! -- This article, by Fatima Tlisova, gives an in- depth look of why Circassians in the three Circassian titular republics are protesting.
  
  
• November 23, 2009
  Protest actions of Sochi citizens took place in Moscow
  
  
• November 24, 2009
  Statement of Adygeyan (Kabardian) public of KBR
  “Adyghe Khasa” of Adygeya Republic: “Together we are strong”
  
  
• November 25, 2009
  Appeal of Circassian Youth Forum of Moscow about KBR lands
  
  
• November 26, 2009
  Swine flu did not prevent "Circassian march"
  VIDEO: CIRCASSIAN PROTESTERS
  ***Recommended viewing! -- Authorities would not let these protesters cross from Nalchik to Cherkessk telling them if they really wanted to go, they could walk- thinking the 20-30 mile distance was too far.
  
  
• November 29, 2009
  In Cherkessk, demand to divide republic into Karachai and Circassia
  
  
• December 1, 2009
  “Khasa” public movement’s statement on fact of violence against its leaders
  
  
• December 3, 2009
  Support for Circassian Nationalism Grows in the North Caucasus
  
  
• December 5, 2009
  At meeting of December 5th, in Nalchik, bloodshed is supposed
  Ibrahim Yaganov is beaten in Nalchik
  State of "Khasa” leader’s health does not cause fear
  Circassian Youth Groups Under Pressure In Kabardino-Balkaria, Karachayevo-Cherkessia
  
  
• December 6, 2009
  Another Circassian Activist Assaulted, Beaten In Nalchik
  
  
• December 9, 2009
  Ibrahim Yaganov: We are determined to continue the struggle

Circassian (Adyghe) Reactions from Diaspora and Karachay- Cherkessk

• Jordan
  “Friends of Adygs of Caucasus”: Attack against national leaders is inadmissible
  December 1, 2009
• Israel
  “Circassian congress” of Israel calls Adygs of the world to stand for their leaders’ protection
  December 1, 2009
• Australia
  Circassian community of Australia’s appeal
  December 10, 2009
• Turkey
  “Caucasian forum” of Turkey: Attacks against Adygeyan leaders are Russian provocations
  December 11, 2009
• Abkhazia
  Public of Abkhazia’s worried with situation in Kabardino-Balkaria
  December 11, 2009
• Karachay- Cherkessk
  Statement of Karachaevo-Circassian republican public movement "Circassian congress"
  December 11, 2009

Circassians demanding rights outside of the Caucasus and Russia

• Circassians latest to demand rights in Turkey
  December 9, 2009
  

Protesters outside Khabez, town/village near Cherkessk


Protesters in Cherkessk, capital of Karachai-Cherkessk


Protesters outside Khabez, town/village near Cherkessk

In the words of George Carlin...

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete....

Remember; spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember to say, ' I love you ' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again...

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

1,500 moments of simplicity...

In July 2009, The New York Times Lens blog compiled more than 1,500 mobile photos from its readers. Some of the shots look like impressionist or surrealist painitings, some are photos that serve as reminders of easier times, and others are just captures of things that hold our attention in our busy daily lives....

In any case, all the photos show that the ordinary is truly extraordinary. Circle through them; you won't be disappointed. :)

Free time + Sharpie =

Doodles!! ♥


-August 13, 2009-

Little Green Hummingbird

July 22, 2009 -- The day of the green hummingbird.

As I'm driving a lady with a bright pink sleeveless dress catches my eye. But its not the fierce summer color that draws my attention, but rather the white tye-dye 'target bull-eye' design on her behind.

I can't help but imagine a young, charming, green hummingbird getting very very excited...



(Image not mine. Google ♥)

My Name is Trippy Travaasey

My dream from Saturday July 25, 2009.

I am a child of the 70's era on vacation in the middle of North California. A few signs tell me I'm near UC Berkeley. The midsummer afternoon breeze comes through the open window of the moving car, refreshing me. I get out of the car and walk until I see a group surrounding a tree bent at a certain angle. I go closer to the tree and I read a plaque that explains tree is directly pointing to my beloved Kafkas. I stand wondering if the tip of this tree and the tip Mt. Elbrus are emitting an invisible protective dome over my people. Nearby is a statue of a beautiful lady nurturing the tree. She is bent and kneels over as if she is constantly watering the roots. "Mother Satanaya?" I question. "Are you still nurturing your children?"

I continue my stroll on the brick sidewalk, passing by little shops that fill all my senses. I choose to sit on the stoop of a candle shop. The shelves are lined with more colors than a summer rainbow that entice me. Its intoxicating fragrances soothe me.

I watch older hippies with psychedelic outfits stroll by. A young couple is running a few errands. Across the street, I spot a tall, lean man with a guitar on his back. His long dark hair falls into his inky black eyes. I sit straighter, smoothing my sideways plait and fixing my little white dress. He spots me sitting on the store stoop. As he walks towards me I notice he is carrying a shiny pink skateboard. He introduces himself as Jim Morrison. Nervously I unravel my braid. I ask about his guitar and politely tell him that I’ve never heard his music. When he asks me for my name I shyly tell him, “My name is Trippy Travaasey.” Jim sees me eyeing the skateboard and generously hands it to me, saying, "Play Trippy, but do good with this." He winks at me, runs his fingers in my hair and disappears into the crowds that have come out with the cooling dusk.

With a skip in my step, I run uphill. I want to play with my skateboard! After a few downhill zooms that make my long hair wild, I decide that darkness will make my descending flights riskier. I walk along an avenue lined with small willow trees decorated with little white lights. A black family catches my attention as I see a little girl around my age talking to her slightly older brother. Like others of the crowd they comment on the colorful windows. I get closer to them, to hear them talk. I hear the little girl say to her brother, "Look at that pink skateboard! How much of an allowance do I need to buy that?"

I walk to her. Her ebony eyes sparkle in the bright window's lights. She is shy and stands near her brother for comfort. I hand her my new toy that saying that I want her to have my shiny pink skateboard. "Its brand new. A guy with a guitar just gave it to me!" I excitedly explain. Their parents are nearby and overhear the conversation. They offer to pay fifty dollars for the skateboard. I firmly refuse. As I start to turn around and run towards the park, the brother yells to me , "Hey! What's your name?!" I stop, smile and shout, "My name is Trippy Travaasey!" I continue my dash to the park swings.

Years pass and I return to this little neighborhood. My hair is braided, and I'm wearing a white summer sundress, while carrying many papers in an oversized bag. I overhear that President Obama is in the area, on vacation visiting his cousin. I’m determined to show him the statue of Mother Satanaya as she nurtures the leaning tree and tell him about Circassians. I get his attention and we talk as we stroll along the neighborhoods, commenting on the little shops windows. The location of the enchanted place reminds him of a story that his cousin shared with him as a child. He asks for my name and his face lights up when I say, “Trippy Travaasey.”

He urges me to follow him. His giant steps lead me through a winding lane of little willow trees. We walk past more shops and he disappears from view as a sparkly jewelry store window catches my eye. The diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires twinkle as they flirt with golden light allowing the combination to dance and twirl in my mind. I walk away dejected, until a tall smart looking man accidentally bumps into me, sending my papers flying into the street. He shares that he was trying to find someone in a hurry. As an apology he invites me to ice cream. I accept. While a delightful chocolate ice cream, I notice that he is looking at me funny; almost nostalgically. When he asks for my name, I tell him with a smile, "Trippy Travaasey."

Without missing a beat he pulls out a little black book with the McDonald's emblem embossed on the front. His eyes are shining as he glances at me when he pulls out a shiny black pen from his crisp white shirt. A miniature pink skateboard is the pen's holder. He scribbles a few lines and signs his name with a flourish.

He hands me a check. I gasp at the amount. $1,000,000. I look down at the person’s title beneath the signature. The man is the President and CEO of McDonald's.

Bewildered, I look at him with wide eyes. He laughs at my speechlessness and explains, "I'll never forget how you gave my sister the shiny pink skateboard. She played with it for every summer since she went to college, and made countless happy memories for her, me and everyone in my neighborhood."

The man’s happiness and mirth at my shock attracts President Obama to join his cousin. They both say with a twinkle in their winking eyes, "Trippy Travaasey, just play with this. Don't give it away."

Color-i-fire the Night...

Run to find the best spot possible...
Dedicate a firework to someone...
Eat some ice cream...
Grab a glowstick and save it in the freezer for later...
Join in the chorus of oohs & aaahhs...
Wrap an arm around a special person...
Sing some Billie Jean...
Sit, stand, or lay in amazement and joy. ♥

Forever, Our Souls Remain

This is a poem from The Last of the Departed published by Bagrat Shinkuba. It is an excellent story of the Ubykh, Zaurkan Zolak, who was expelled as a young man from Kafkasia in 1864. His story is told through the linguist Sharakh Kvadza when Zaurkan was a 100 years old.

Let's look back at our mountains,
They don't know where we're going.
Let's look back and leave them our song
To wonder like an echo
From one mountain to another.
If a child leaves its mother,
The mother is to blame.
But is she really to blame?
Is she really to blame?
"Why are you leaving children?
What have I done to you, children?"
Our land is crying;
Our land is asking.
Forgive us unfortunate ones,
Forgive us!
We have no power to stay.
We can leave you
One thing only: our souls.
We are leaving forever.
Forever, our souls remain.

Forever, my soul remains...


The Mountaineers leave the aul (village). 1872.