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Tattooed Like an Arab
Story of an Armenian Girl (Part eight)
by Serpouhi Tavoukdjian
But finally Asha and Sada also began to take notice of me,
and asked Allel Moose to please bring me home again as his own
little daughter. I was frightened at the thought of being with
them once more. What would they do to me this time? But I loved
my kind Arab father very much, and knew he wanted me to return
to him. So on the day when I came for me I went. Surprising as
it was, the wives were now very kind to me, and seemed genuinely
glad to see me back at home. They tried in every way to make me
love them. They gave me pretty beads and bracelets, and sewed me
new dresses. And sometimes Asha, who was the younger, and very
beautiful, would put the circle of gold money which she wore on
her own head, around me head and say, "Pretty,
pretty," as she patted my curls.
I helped them with their work about the house, as they made
bread and cheese, and did other things. But it was only little
errands they let me do, like bringing them things. And they were
so very jealous of each other that I had to be careful not to
help one more than the other. They were always asking, "Helema,
which of us do you love best?" And I would always make
reply, "I love you both just the same." One of the
things I like best to do was to feed the little lambs and kids
belonging to my father's herd, so I spent much time playing with
them.
About this time Allel Moose married another wife, a Turkish
woman. She lived in another house some distance away, and came
to see me and brought me presents. Sometimes I would go to visit
her. We liked each other very much. I wished I could live with
her, because he house was filled with beautiful things, and was
not an Arab home, but was more like what I had been used to when
I lived in Ovajik. But my father said no, I must stay at his
main home.
For some time now there had been talk about having my face
tattooed. As I have said, every Arab woman has tattooing, and
this is thought to add much to her beauty. I did not wish to be
tattooed, and still I did. I was afraid the Turks would get me
again, and knew that if I were so marked, they would think that
I was an Arab and not an Armenian, and would never touch me. My
father was very anxious to have this done.
One morning, the artist they had arranged to tattoo me
arrived. I did not object when she made ready to begin. This
work is done by four fine needles tightly tied together. They
are stuck deep into the true skin, but so rapidly you can hardly
see them move. The fluid used is not ink, but a blue dye made
from the gall bladder of goats and sheep. These are dried and
then ground into powder and mixed with water. When she was
ready, the artist asked me to lie down on a rug spread in the
courtyard. I did. I did not know that the tattooing would hurt.
But when she began to prick my face and the blood ran down, I
kicked and screamed that I did not want to be tattooed, and
begged her to let me go. However, the wives were there to help
her, and one held my hands while the other sat on my feet. My
protests were in vain. I must be made beautiful. I rose from
that floor an Arab to all appearances.
When my father came home that evening, he was very much
pleased with the improvement in my looks. He smiled and patted
my shoulder and said, "My dear Helema, my little Arab
girl."
Three years passed, three happy years. The wives tried to
outdo each other in showing affection for me and favoring me.
They worked in the fields, but I was not allowed to do this.
Every time I was left alone at home, the gate of the courtyard
was closed. I was safe behind those high walls. But the gate was
not locked, and one day, as I sat crocheting, suddenly I looked
up and saw standing by my side a Turkish soldier. I was
paralyzed with fear. He asked me for buttermilk. I said,
"We have no buttermilk, and neither have I permission to
give you any." He took hold of me. But just at that moment,
Allel Moose came through the gate. He was very angry, and
ordered the soldier to leave, which he did. It seemed that I was
never to be safe from the dreaded Turk. But after that they
always locked the gate
When I could no longer play outside the yard, I often played
upon the flat roof of the house. Our pastime was throwing grass
balls back and forth to the neighbor girls outside the walls.
The house of some of the neighbor children was connected with
mine. They could come and play hide and seek with me behind the
chimney and around the house.
My family did all they possibly could to make a Mohammedan of
me. They even taught me a prayer to say to Allah. Sometimes I
would repeat over after them the words they said, but this was
never prayer to me. I always prayed in my heart to the God in
heaven. He was my only comfort when I could not help thinking of
the dear home and loved ones I had lost.
One day I heard Allel Moose and his wives talking about my
future. They said I was nearly old enough to marry, and that
since I was healthy and full of good spirits and life, some
young sheik would be sure to pay a good price for me as a wife.
This was the custom of the country, and while I knew that I
could not expect my lot to be different from other girls of the
Arab tribes, yet this bargaining was most offensive to me. I
knew I was a Christian girl, and could never consent to be one
of several wives to a man whose religion and habits and
standards of life and thought were all so different from my own.
For several days this was the main topic of conversation at
our home. What price should be asked for Helema? How many
horses, camels, and donkeys? How much money? To my father and
his wives, this meant the marriage contract; to me it meant
simply being sold into hateful bondage. Then the matter became
known in the community, and young sheiks came to see and shook
my hand and spoke to me. After that they would talk to Allel
Moose, and then go away. Perhaps he had made the contract price
too high, for he was very proud of his Helema.
Finally I became tired of it all, ad so disgusted that as we
were all in the living room one evening together, I stepped to
the wall where my father's long Arab gun was hanging, took it
form its place, and pointed it at my heart. Quickly he cautioned
me to have care, for it was loaded.
"I know it is loaded," I answered, "and I also
know how to fire it. Are you really going to sell me into
marriage?"
"Do you not wish to marry?" he questioned,
startled.
"No," I told him, " I want always to live in
your home with you."
"Put up the gun, Helema," he laughed. "You
shall not marry if you do not wish to."
What a deliverance! Once more the hand of a loving heavenly
Father had intervened and saved me so I could serve Him as He
wished and as I desired.
One day, in the spring of the year, my father and his wives
went out into the fields, and in their hurry forgot to lock the
courtyard gate. Just outside the wall ran a clear little brook.
I wanted very much to have a drink of that cool water, and
sighed that I must wait until the gate was unlocked. Then I
discovered it was open. Quickly I brought a cup and slipped
outside. Almost instantly I found myself face to face with a
soldier who was dressed in Turkish uniform, but how spoke to me
in Armenian.
"You are an Armenian girl," he said.
"No," I answered and said, "If you are an
Arab, now is it that you understand what I have said to you in
the Armenian language?"
I tried to run back inside the gate, but he drew out his gun
and said he would shoot me if I did not stay and talk with him.
I stood there trembling. I was afraid that my Arab family would
return and find him there. If they did, I knew they would be
angry and never let him speak to me again.
There was an Armenian man with his wife living in the village
of Abu Galgal. They were elderly people and kept a farm, and I
had visited them occasionally for the joy of speaking Armenian.
Now I told this solider to go to their home and I would come
later and talk to him there. These people had lived in Abu
Galgal for a long, long time. They had wood to sell, and several
times I had gone there when our wood was scarce to get a few
sticks. That evening, after our supper was eaten, I asked
permission to go to this house and get some wood. Allel Moose
told me I might go, with many caution s about how I should come
back quickly. It seemed that my feet hardly touched the ground,
I hurried so fast.
This young Armenian solider told me that the World War was
now over, and that Germany and Turkey had been defeated and had
lost a great deal of their territory, and were no longer making
war upon Armenians. He said that the victorious Allied nations
had declared that the Armenians were free, and had ordered the
Turks to bring back all the Armenian girls who had been sol to
the Arabs and to restore them to their own relatives if
possible. If this were not possible, they were take care of in
the Near East Relief Orphanage, which had been established for
this purpose. I learned that Armenians soldiers in Turkish
uniform were scattered all through Arabia looking for girls who
were in Arab homes. Some one had told him that there was an
Armenian girl in the house of Allel Moose, and he had been
keeping watching for several days, trying to find a chance to
speak to me.
He wanted me to go away with him at once. I knew if I did
this it would bring great trouble to the Armenian friends at
whose house we were talking, for my people would most certainly
punish them if I should disappear. Also, I hated to bring grief
to my Arab father, who had been so kind to me. Therefore, I
refused t go back with this Armenian young man, but told him to
go back to Aleppo and tell the authorities to send a government
order. Then only could I leave my Arab father without making
trouble for anybody.
He went away, and several weeks later a squad of Turkish
soldiers came to our home with a letter from the military
government, saying that I must go to Aleppo to meet my
"brother." The young man had represented me as his
sister, to obtain my quick release. I think I shall always be
frightened at the sight of Turkish soldiers, and when these
appeared and said I must go with them, I cried and clung to kind
Allel Moose.
"I will not go," I said; "I do not want to
leave you."
The wives cried too, and said I should not go. Then my father
paid the Turkish soldiers money, and told them to go back to
Aleppo and say to that my brother that I had run away. He had
just before this married another new wife-his fourth-and she
lived about a half day's journey distant. Now he put me on his
fine Arabian horse and rode hurriedly away with me to her home.
And he hid me for several weeks until he felt that all danger
was over. Then he came and took me back to Abu Galgal.
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