Stonework by Chipka
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Description
“Americans will not come to my country,” Dül says, “because they are afraid of our alphabet.” It is an old joke, common in Ükür. I think that the absence of my countrymen is more an artifact of cartographic ignorance and nationalistic disinterest. Who among my Stateside friends can even find Ükür on a map? Who can name the ancient and rich cities: Iŗátáī, Šeš, and Ömǖt? Who, in the western world, can even pronounce the rakish complexity of the rolling, staccato “ŗ”? I am proud of my linguistic achievements. I can speak fluent Italian, Estonian, and passable Farsi, but I trouble with the distinct Üküré consonant that flutter-buzzes like insect wings stuck somewhere deep within a cat’s purr. It is a consonant one does not speak with ill-anchored dentures.
Now, with Dül at my side, I make my way towards the center of Ömǖt. There are Americans here: brave tourists and trust-fund kinds who call themselves expatriates. There are—invariably—more locals: patriots who have marked the passage of the summertime moon and now place wreaths of fennel and dill on the steps of the diminutive residence of King Iábrim VIII. Midnight marks the ancient imperial birthday, and Dül, a patriot in his own manner, carries his own diminutive wreath, as he walks beside me in sandals and shorts, and an American tee-shirt emblazoned with—of all things!—Spiderman in faded reds and blues. In glancing at him, I can see the entire history of this country. There is something Mediterranean in his face, something vaguely Italian, and yet he is Üküré.
Iábrim's Palace at Ömǖt is tiny—I’ve seen larger houses in gated communities outside of Los Angeles. It is nothing like the sprawling monstrosities that other members of royalty have claimed as their own. King Iábrim VIII, in local estimation was a gentleman ruler; his responsibilities as King weighed heavily upon him, and unlike the barbaric or effete kings of other nations, Iábrim contented himself with work as any common laborer might. He was a fisherman, he was a scribe, and a poet of some renown. Now, he is mummified by time and his airtight coffin, and I walk with Dül, to leave a wreath at the door to his home.
“I will meet with friends when we leave here,” Dül says, as we amble towards the diminutive castle. “You are invited.”
I know his friends: Lhát, Mem, and Xéŗšé. I have been to their favorite underground bar—a place that smells of tobacco and expensive cologne. I nod my assent to accompany him and endure his fawning attention, and the reverential treatment his compatriots will heap upon me. The Üküré—especially the young, modern men, are inordinately fascinated with all things American, and as an American woman—traveling alone, and teaching English—I am something of a prize; my social value is incalculably high.
This frightens me, not because I cannot endure such fawning attention, but because now, I am looking at the residence of a long-departed King, and as I look through windows and notice the seams between ancient, rough-hewn wall-stones, I’m struck by the strange richness of Üküré culture. My friend, the only son of my host-family in his Spiderman-emblazoned tee shirt and complicated sandals, is a part of a culture that frightens most Americans. Because of its alphabet, if you put stock in a local joke. But there’s something else to it, and intensity in the common Üküré gaze. They know something! They’ve experienced something anomalous in their history, and it is embodied in all that they do, all that they are. I do not know what it is, but I feel it in the air.
***
This picture was taken on Marilyn and Tara's first night in Chicago. I was leaving their hotel, stuffed with Persian food and content with the quiet darkness of Michigan Avenue. I took this picture on a whim and I'm still pleased with how it turned out.
As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting.
Comments (21)
KatesFriend
That is quite a story. Beautifully rendered as always with a long historical back story compacted into the 4096 characters they allow us here. There is something seductive about this environment, like liquor made in "they old way" as my grand mother would say ("porch climber" as my mother would say). Curious the seeming exuberance of these people who at the same time look back with pride and respect at old King Iábrim a rather down to earth man he looks to me. People are complex. Sorry for my lack of focus but I've had more wine tonight than a man of my responsibilities should be permitted. Cheers.
bimm3d
wonderful story, gorgeous photo!!!!
beachzz
Once again, you take a foto and give us a story that seems so absolutely credible. This place is another one that fascinated me. I remember waiting for you as you went into Borders (that was a sneaky one!!) and taking several shots myself. It has an other wordly feel to it, so your story makes all the more sense. The light just ROCKS!!
ToniDunlap
Amazing! All of it!
auntietk
Oh my. You get SUCH good night shots! I didn't even attempt this with my camera. (The results are predictable, and not worth the click.) I will stare and enjoy this image though, remembering our conversations as we passed by each evening. (Aforementioned poor results with my camera is the ONLY reason I didn't make you stop then and there to take that uplit portrait I was wanting! You would have looked so enticingly spooky!) I love your story ... I can see its roots in our discussion of vowels and the lack thereof. Excellent work, all the way around!
Meisiekind
Wonderful lighting in this awesome shot Chip and fascinating writing! Love it! :)
durleybeachbum
Your writing instantly suspends disbelief. MARVELLOUS, and perfect with your splendid night pic!
nikolais
Chip, the capture is far beyond textures looking like a landmark you cannot avoid if you want to continue your way...as always, excellent prose at that!
BessieB
Wonderful!
helanker
What a fantastic building. So beautiful with the light from below.
Gaiadriel
I've been away from the site for so very long now, and happily found this transportive tale today (...and greedily drank it with my morning coffee). It melds, so well suited, to the photo, and vice versa. Sheer excellence, both. :)
tamburro
Fantastic capture my friend!!! Bravo!
ladyraven23452
great work as always.
romanceworks
It is like a castle in the midst of a city, a fantasy from old in the midst of the present. Really great shot and accompanying prose. You do seduce us with your stories and take us to new places of the mind and heart. CC
MrsRatbag
Dramatic lighting and wonderful composition, Chip! And perfect for the story...
Xantipa
Wonderful..excellent work..
witch_1612
Wonderful Work!!!
elfin14doaks
It turned out really cool. I tried getting that shot when we were walking back to the hotel, but people and buses kept getting in the way LOL awesome shot , way to go.
elfin12u
Glad you got this so well, Cheri's had to much obstruction to be worthy of a post. I love the soft banana like color to this!
bmac62
Limestone Chip? Can this be part of your famous Chicago watertower? Quite a story...I am a failed liquist even though I have a BA in English:) So, needless to say, your story is very impressive to me.
anahata.c
I've much to catch up on, but I'm only doing one image per gallery tonight because of major time constriction...but this is an exquisite capture Chip, and your vignette—a short jaunt through the reflections of this woman—is wonderful. Again you show your love affair with the mysteries of tongues (language tongues that is, lol), and in your hands the strange consonants and vowels of unknown tongues become invitations to cultures we barely know, and intimations of their mysteries. And you've collided a very American symbol with other cultures & made an enticing meeting of the worlds. And we're enticed at the prospect of ancient royalty and uncovering tombs and on and on—I assume all conjured by the otherworldly strangeness of this peculiar but beautiful Chicago structure. Wonderful how a mere picture spawns all these glimpses from you; and yet your glimpse is so full that we feel we've visited a whole world. The photo is very clear & bathed in that warm light that makes this stoney thing actually quite beautiful. And your pov is wonderfully angled, giving us a sense of its looming & mysterious qualities. I love the side pov, the angle and slight 'low' capture. And I love how you & Marilyn posted 2 very different versions of this same structure. Beautiful work, beautiful words, and always a pleasure to walk in your inner world. I'll be back for more soon...