Stroies From Grandmother

  

The Bandit, The Stone, and The Secret of Mamiya 

The most compelling chapter in our family's oral history is the story of my paternal grandmother, Mahperi (mtDNA T2g1a), and her mysterious father, Memiya. Mahperi, known in the village by the nickname "Bulunmaz" (The Incomparable), was the longest-living witness to this history.

The Character and the Code

Mahperi’s own personality—authoritarian, knowledgeable, and emotionally possessive was largely shaped by a profound absence.

• Family Nickname: My grandmother’s lineage carried the nickname "Delikayalar" (Crazy Rocks/Boulders). This perception by the village of a harsh, unpredictable temperament is significant, suggesting a family history of resistance and individuality

• The Name Anomaly: Mahperi’s father’s name, Memiya stands out in our regional archives as unique, reinforcing the possibility of a non-local or deeply rooted ancestral line that avoided later assimilation.

The Conflicting Oral History

When asked about her father, Mahperi’s account was characterized by profound emotional conflict. As a child, I witnessed her switch between an unyielding silence and a sudden, heartbreaking outburst:

"How would I know? He died when I was still a baby. He was a bandit, he was trash! He would get on his horse, go up to the mountains, and sometimes wouldn't return for days, sometimes for months."

Mahperi’s conflicting emotions—the anger, the tears, and the harsh self-judgment—reveal the depth of the trauma and the social pressure surrounding his memory. Being labelled "trash" or a "bandit" clearly brought great shame to the family.

The Historical Context: Resistance and Identity

Mamiya was likely born around the 1890s, when the Artvin region was under Russian occupation (1877-1918). His actions—disappearing into the mountains, returning irregularly—fit the pattern of local resistance or militia activity against the occupying forces, rather than simple banditry.

• He chose the path of the outlaw to protect what he believed was right, forcing his family to endure the resulting social isolation and the lasting shame of the "bandit" label.

My conversation with my paternal grandmother (my father's mother) I think dates back to 1995 when they visited and stayed at our house again. But our conversations on this theme continued even after the 2000s. My paternal grandmother was the longest-living of all my grandparents.

She is a carrier of T2g1a mtDNA (maternal lineage).

I can say that she was quite arrogant, knowledgeable, and authoritarian. My mother, including all the other daughters-in-law, frankly did not like her much and was a little afraid of her. This is because she had a possessive nature over her sons. And she carried the pressure, common in the Eastern Black Sea region, that mothers-in-law put on their daughters-in-law: "you have to take care of us in our old age."

Perhaps it would be beneficial to talk about her family before my conversation with her.

Her family is actually not a very well-known family in Yavuzköy. I will now recount the reflection of my paternal grandmother's family, which I may have "misunderstood" slightly due to my father's joking nature. If there are readers from that lineage, they should know and not be angry that I am recounting the memories that were passed on to me, largely learned by forcing and insisting on asking.

My paternal grandmother's family was known by the nickname "Delikayalar" (Crazy Rocks/Boulders). The other families in the village were somewhat wary of them. Apparently, they had a harsh and unpredictable temperament, befitting their nickname. No one knows why they were called Delikayalar. This name could be related to a place name, a nickname given to an elder, or even an event.

What captures my interest and attention is this: My paternal grandmother, nicknamed "Bulunmaz" (Unfindable/Incomparable), was primarily named Mahperi. The name of my paternal grandmother's father, as recorded in state archives, is "Memiya." This name is the only "strange" name in our family archives; frankly, I haven't seen anyone else with that name in Artvin.

When I spoke with my paternal grandmother as a child, there would be moments like this: she would jokingly envy my belongings or a piece of clothing I owned and would try to elicit sympathy by saying, "We didn't have things like this when we were children." I would often ask, didn't you have a father, why didn't he buy them?

She would frown and wouldn't say anything.

One day, somehow, she decided to tell the details of the matter.

She said, "My father's name was Memiya."

I asked, "What kind of a name is that?"

She said, "I don't know."

I asked, "What kind of person was he?"

She said, "I don't know."

I asked, "Doesn't a person know what kind of person their father was?"

She said, "How would I know? He died when I was still a baby."

I asked, surprised, "How did he die?"

Her face crumpled with a mix of tears and anger.

She said, "He was a bandit, he was trash!" and started to cry.

I was surprised. "A bandit, how? What do you mean, Grandma?" I asked.

She said, "How should I know? He would get on his horse, go up to the mountains, and sometimes wouldn't return for days, sometimes for months. That's why they would call him a bandit, a mugger."

I couldn't understand it back then. But my paternal grandmother's father, "Memiya," must have been born around the 1895s. The region was under Russian occupation at that time. It is understood and recounted that there were groups who were resisting even under occupation in the region, and it seems that "Memiya," who was described as a "bandit," may have been some kind of folk hero.