"Since it had to start at one end, they began first to get rid dogs. " They, are the Young Turks of the Committee of Union and Progress who overthrew the last Sultan of the Ottoman Empire in 1909. Their march towards progress, therefore, began by hygiene measures with no return of the exiled countless dogs Istanbulites wandering on a deserted island and concomitantly, the massacre of some 20,000 Armenians. Old tradition dear to the Sublime Porte and how to get your feet wet for the great genocide of 1915 (1.5 million deaths) that could be accomplished more calmly in the confines of Asia Minor that the rest of world was at war. "
This excerpt from an article pilfered without any feeling of regret or shame on my part (but then no ...) comes from the site The regimental angels (quoting the sources anyway) and speaks of a book that any respectable man and well educated must have in their library. This book is Turkish Night of Philippe Videlier , researcher at CNRS (where he led a hard life), historian and author, among other things, a book on this beautiful and misunderstood what common Décines . (The twin city of Stepanavan, should you still remember?).
What relationship with this dear city of Stepanavan? will you tell me ... Patience dear reader. Let me explain, impatient reader, unaccustomed to the slow and dainty news quickly absorbed speeds forgotten ...
Here it is the reason for this post, dear reader! Attention, get ready, it will hurt.
Last week, in full concentration on this website yet unknown general public ... -What's it called again? Ah yes, Facebook ...- I hear a bang. Like a shot. And that, very close to my home to me.
I open the window ... and the only thing I see at night (like my black sourdj morning, as the public lighting Stepanavan almost no) is the end of a gun protruding from the window of a car enters a roundabout ... very slowly. American film noir kind of leap years. The fog, cold, shadows ... You see the trick.
Last week, in full concentration on this website yet unknown general public ... -What's it called again? Ah yes, Facebook ...- I hear a bang. Like a shot. And that, very close to my home to me.
I open the window ... and the only thing I see at night (like my black sourdj morning, as the public lighting Stepanavan almost no) is the end of a gun protruding from the window of a car enters a roundabout ... very slowly. American film noir kind of leap years. The fog, cold, shadows ... You see the trick.
Taking my courage in tomorrow two hands, I decided to close my window and return right away to my business.
Ten minutes later, a new shot ... surprise re-, re-I rise sharply, reopening the window ... except that, I mean something ... like a breath, a kind of stifled groan ... and then nothing. I see one or two dogs spinning in circles, obviously disturbed by something. I grabbed my camera and being outside to have the heart net. And then I fall over:
Ten minutes later, a new shot ... surprise re-, re-I rise sharply, reopening the window ... except that, I mean something ... like a breath, a kind of stifled groan ... and then nothing. I see one or two dogs spinning in circles, obviously disturbed by something. I grabbed my camera and being outside to have the heart net. And then I fall over:
I call again my guardian.
Transcript of our brief but informative conversation
Transcript of our brief but informative conversation
- "Armine jan, is it normal to Stepanavan to shoot stray dogs at night?
- Yes yes ... it's normal. Many poor families can not feed their babies leave the dogs in the street and sometimes they are killed because there are too many.
-OK. .. tomorrow, Armien January "
NO HOW ...
Here ... This flash photography reminds me that I must speak Film Serge Avedikian, Bitch history, which won the Palme d'Or at Cannes this year in the short film category. ;
Here's the synopsis: " Constantinople 1910. Too many stray dogs in the streets. The government is seeking, with European experts, how to get rid of them before deciding alone to deport 30,000 dogs on a deserted island off the city. "
How? It does remind you of anything?
EPILOGUE:
Thirty minutes later, the sound of a chest that closes loudly. I open my window again. The dogs have disappeared.
The next day, a red spot on the sidewalk bleeding as a souvenir.
People pass by without noticing anything.
The life goes on ... Stepanavan
Some useful links for the more curious among you:
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