We had only a few hours left until our house would be completely submerged. The new dam being built on the Tigris (Ilısu Dam) was expected to cause water levels to rise exponentially, and soon our 12,000-year-old village, Hasankeyf, would be under water. Most of the buildings especially the national heritages had already been relocated to a newly built area called “New Hasankeyf,” and it was our turn to move.
We had packed everything days ago and were waiting for our time to go. I said a final goodbye to the house I had grown up in. A single tear slid down my face. I didn’t want to leave, but I didn’t want to drown either; I had no choice. I hopped in the car with my mom, dad, and two siblings. My father turned the key, and we began our journey toward our new home. On the way, I looked out the window and thought, “Maybe we’ll still be able to see the village in the summertime, you know, when the water level drops.” When we first entered the village, I was surprised by how beautiful the new place was. I especially liked the new municipality building, it was relatively new but had kept the historic taste to it.
Once we got comfortable in our new house, something felt off. It wasn’t the house itself or anything. It felt like I had left something important behind. Then it hit me, the doll. The one I had buried ten years ago. It was a gift from my preschool friend who had died – may god bless her soul- in the earthquake. I buried it in her memory, as a memorial, never imagining the entire village would one day get eaten by the Tigris. Out of panic, I told my father and begged him to take me back. He looked at his watch and shook his head. “It’s not safe, it’s too late, sweetie,” he said and kissed my head as if to comfort me. I had other plans; I wasn’t going to give up that easily, and I decided to take matters into my own hands.
Without hesitation, I packed my schoolbag with water, put on a hat, and quietly left the house without anyone noticing. I followed a narrow trail only used by shepherds. The path was empty, only me and the soil sizzling under the heat. I took a sip of water. I knew I was late, and I could hear the sound of the river rapidly speeding up. I was racing against time, and just when I wished a miracle to happen, I tripped over something soft. When I turned to see and saw what I had fallen over, I was about to swallow my tongue. There it was, the doll! With a note on it: “Memories never drown.“