The Scarlet Day :

The Scarlet Day, 15/12/2021, Steppe FM

Still two weeks quietly installed at the Kapadokya Ranch to make easily its residence permit in Turkey, unless... APATHIC BUREAUCRATE!

The beginning of these two weeks however had started well. The routine on the farm, the sun, the horses, the rides in the surrounding valleys and the plans for future trips with Akim & Marie. We have two options to go riding in the South during the winter: either we buy two horses in Cappadocia and transport them there or we buy them directly on the spot with a little luck. We study the different options, find out about the routes to follow and the costs to take into account.

The Turkish lyre continues its descent into hell: we were at 1€ for 10 TL when we entered the country and we are now at 1€ for 15 TL today, which on the contrary of the Turks tends to give us an advantage. We visit a shop, a few kilometers from where we are staying, for small horses (about 1m40 at the withers). The prices are really interesting, less than 150€ per horse. Thanks to our friends here we found a potential transport at 200€ for the two horses which would allow us to go down all four easily with the three dogs and with all the equipment of voyage and pack. Our project is progressing little by little and we are starting to feel the excitement of going on an adventure.

In parallel to the farm we are not idle. We have to fix the dirt road before the winter and the heavy rains come, patch up some fences, create a new park for the horses... and then there was also a very special day that will remain engraved in our minds (and sorry but there will be no pictures to illustrate it) :

As every day, the six of us meet up (Nico & Helene, the owners of the Ranch; Marie & Akim the newlyweds with whom we plan to leave; Rico and myself) at 8 am in the troglodyte living room for breakfast. As always we fill ourselves with Tahin-Pekmez (a mixture of sesame puree and grape juice concentrate). But today is a special day. Today we are going to help to the castration of two young horses.

At 9 am, we are joined by the vet accompanied by five other people including Ibrahim and Gokhan (our friends from the Antalya trek). The first horse is brought in the round of longe, the veterinary administers an anaesthetic to him, then we try to hinder his four legs to put him down. Despite the fact that there were at least six of us around him, it took us five long minutes and a few scares before we managed to get him down. Three of his feet are tied together by a rope that we hold, his other backside is maintained raised by another rope, his head put on a cushion is pined to the ground by the knee of a 120 kilos Turkish man.

Again, the vet pricks him with a local anesthetic all around the testicles. We wait like that for a few minutes until the liquid diffuses. The horse, stressed by these more than abnormal circumstances, tries several times to free himself. The fists tighten around the ropes, the jaw tightens under the effort, the ties squeak, the horse stretches all his muscles then suddenly he gives up and relaxes again. A few minutes go by. The vet takes out his sanitized scalpel. Everyone holds his rope, everyone looks at him. The blade of the scalpel disappears completely inside the horse, draws a line of about fifteen centimeters. Blood spurts out. The action didn't last two seconds. The horse stiffens again. Everyone stands firm, its head falls back on the cushion. The vet plunges one of his hands dripping with Betadine into the wound from which a continuous stream of scarlet blood escapes. He pulls out his hand which now holds the canal that ends on the two testicles steaming in the morning air. I can't help but, like everyone else around me I guess, grit my teeth at the bloody sight. The vet pinches the canal with a kind of metal pliers. He adds a tourniquet a few centimeters upstream and takes out the scalpel again. With a short blow, he cuts the canal. The testicles roll in the sand. At this sight, my body twitches. He sews up the wound in a few points, leaving a drain. We untie the ropes. The gelding gets up. A stream of blood flows on the ground. The operation is over. It went very well. The horse is led to a tree where he is tied up short so that he cannot move or roll. He is given a drink.

Before moving on to the next operation, the picture is almost comical. Everyone, even the vet, takes five minutes to calm their nerves by smoking a cigarette.

The equipment is sanitized again. The second horse is brought in.

[...]

The operation did not go as well. The incision was not as clean but the veterinarian is serene although he found only one testicle...

Settled on the terrace, everyone drinks a tea before leaving. While getting back in his car, Ibrahim can't help but tell me laughing "this is what will happen to you if you touch my daughter!" before starting the car and laughing out loud.

Well... It's 11:30 am, the castration went globally well. Everyone goes back home and in ten days the two young horses will be able to join the herd. We would have been satisfied to finish the day quietly except that Nico charges us with a new mission: to kill two geese and to prepare them for the party planned the next day...

Akim catches a goose, Rico catches another one. And I catch an axe. The three of us look at each other, not knowing what to do. Finally we settle on a big log. Akim and Rico hold the geese so that they get the longest blow possible. We laugh nervously about a potential hand cut. I raise the axe. TCHAK. In one blow head and body are separated. Blood spurts from the missing head. The bodies, still held by Rico and Akim, are shaken by terrible spasms for more than a minute. Finally, the wings stop beating and the amputated bodies come to rest. All three of us are stained with blood.

This day will be remembered for a long time to come. My memory has associated it with a color: red. The scarlet day.

It was impressive but we are glad we lived it. Seeing and participating in the castration of the two horses also makes us realize that it is for the best. Very soon, they will join the herd and live in semi-liberty. And finally their life is much more enviable than that of a stallion who almost never leaves his paddock and only with a human to constrain him. Because to put a stallion in freedom is to be sure to be confronted with many problems, whether it is the pregnancies of the mares or the wounds following the fights with the geldings.

And then, to know how to kill with the minimum of suffering a bird, then to know how to pluck it, to empty it and to prepare it is a little the base for who would like to travel off the beaten track or to hold one day a farm...

(Cute pictures not illustrating the point at all, on the contrary!)

Well, let's get back to the beginning and our problems with the residence permit. In fact it is normal, it is anoying whatever the country. In Turkey no more than elsewhere. Nevertheless, it remains a thorn. The official website works every other day and even when it works you have to lie on it because not all options are possible. Then, after three or four days of hard work to fill in a form, you have to make an appointment with the right institution, go there with all the necessary papers and a guardian (a local who officially allows you to stay with him). Once there, after an umpteenth coffee break, one of the officials deigns to receive you. We proudly show him our papers and he tells us that there is one missing which obviously was not referenced on their site. From there, it is necessary to go to the notary to obtain this new thing. Except that to make the signature official between the guardian (who speaks perfect French since he is our Turkish uncle Ibrahim) and the notary, we need an interpreter. In short, after about ten days, we finally got all the necessary paperwork in exchange of a nice hole in our budget... And we hope now to be able to finally get the permit in the next days.

And then, as a problem rarely happens alone, Nico, Hélène and Pablo call us on the road after their weekend in Ankara and tell us that the little Pablo is a contact case to Covid. As a result, we have to leave the Ranch for at least 7 days to check if Pablo has contracted the virus or not, because it's just easier for everybody.

Fortunately, Uncle Ibo (Ibrahim) is here. And since yesterday, we are installed at his place. And in fact, it's a good thing because he has horses, a ranch and especially needs help for his new ranch which still lacks a lot of things to be able to work well.