the secret of the treasured Turkey's army tunic button

The secret of the treasured Turkey's army tunic button

By David Verveer

After I published my short story on finding a treasure box plastered into the wall, containing only a Turkey's army tunic button, I kept on thinking why and who would hide such a thing in a treasure box, but life goes on, and treasure haunting is certainly not my daily activity. Surprisingly, a few days after publishing this story in a blog, I received a call on my mobile. On the other side of the line, somebody said something like barhaba (I think it is a general greeting in Arab), and suspected that the person by mistake dialed me, I told him in Hebrew that he had the wrong number, but he continued in English by asking, are you Mr. Verveer, who wrote the treasure blog? I thought somebody was playing a trick on me, but decided to play along. But soon after I heard what this person had to say, I realized that nobody was fooling around and from a partly fabled story, a serious historical drama came to light, but in order to tell the story correctly, I will try to relate the story of this gentleman. His name is Hassan, and he is a Canadian born into a Palestinian family, who left Palestine before the Second World War. His grandfather, Musa, around 90 years old, requested him to accompany him in visiting Israel, to see those places where he had spent in his youth. They were staying with their relatives still living in this region (Jaljulia, a tiny Arab village in the Sharon area, which according some archeologists is the biblical Gilgal). This village is situated East of my town Kfar Saba, a 5 minute drive from my house.

Apparently, by accident they read my blog which excited Mr. Musa very much, as it reminded him from a happening in his youth. He asked me, if I would be so kind and come to visit him. Curiously what he could tell me, I agreed immediately.

Their family (it seems that the entire village belongs to the same clan) lived in a large house, occupied with numerous children and people coming in or going out. Mr. Musa and his grandson Hassan waited for me in the sitting room, and with the traditional cup of coffee he told me the following story.

He went back to the Ottoman Empire, when the Turks occupied the entire Middle East including Palestine, an era that ended in a defeat of the Turkey's army by the British General Allenby in 1917 / 1918. At the time their family, living in Jaffa, businessmen traders in grains, etc, possessed also numerous citrus plantations.

Parts of these plantations were in the coastal dunes, north of Jaffa, in the area where today the town Raanana is situated. Musa's grandfather, one of the least successful businessmen in the family, functioned as caretaker of the citrus orchards, living in a big house in the middle.

The area belonged to the northern part of the Jaffa Sanjek (an administrative and military region of the Turkey's Empire. The deputy Governor of the Sanjek was a Turkey's nobleman from the well known Bey family, named Mustafa Bey, and his son, also Mustafa, a career officer in the Turkey's army spending most of his free time in horse riding, and flirting with girls throughout the district. One day passing by a well, he noticed Musa's aunt with some friends. As it goes in nature, her being a beautiful girl and he an handsome tall military man, a love affair was started, which even though, at that time of arranged marriages relatively un known. But the fact that he was extremely rich, and both were from the same (Muslim) faith, they managed to get the families to agree. Soon wedding preparations were in the air, but than the War caught up with them, and Mustafa was required to leave in order to defend the empire. As mentioned before, the Turks lost the battle and Mustafa never came back, we don't know if he was killed in the battle or simply did not want to go back defeated.

In the mean time, our lady, the Musa's aunt was pregnant, and to great dismay of the family, a child was born, which the mother named of course Mustafa. It has to be mentioned that in general, there was no love lost between the Palestinians and the Ottoman rulers who treated them as peasants and preferred the Zionists to deal with. Big American groups such as Ahuza Alef (an American Organization) bought real estate from the Palestinians with Turkey's approval and encouragement. Most Palestinian landowners were not living on the land and used poorer relations or peasants to do the agricultural tasks. Eventually, also the orchards of Musa's family were sold, but this was approximately 20 years later.

Musa's oldest uncle, a very religious man, angry with the world, decided on a fateful day to kill his sister the mother of Mustafa, in order to defend the honor of the family. These family honor crimes are taking still place today, but today they are considered what they really are "murder". In those days, nobody was really in charge, the British couldn't care less, and her murder remained unpunished. However, only a few months later the moody killer committed suicide.

In the mean time, Mustafa and Musa, both of nearly the same age, grew up and were like twins. Of course Mustafa was part of the clan and family, but as orphan, without a penny to his name. The only thing he inherited from his parents were the good looks and charm of his parents and when he reached the age of 15, he decided to run away from home and look for his father and family in Turkey..

One of the last things, which Musa and Mustafa did together, was burying one of the two buttons from his father's tunic, which he found between his mother's possessions, in a treasure chest, in the wall of the old farmhouse, the second one he took with him. Musa promised to retrieve the button from this hiding place, if and when he eventually would leave the farmhouse, a promise, Musa could not keep, because the sudden sale of the farmhouse, during a period Musa was studying in Jordan.

This was the last time Musa had seen and heard from his cousin, he vanished in the thin air. He tried to find him through the Red Cross, the Turkey's embassy in Canada, but all those affords without success.

Musa ended his story by asking me to publish his story, in the hope somebody would read it, who knew Mustafa in Turkey.

Musa and Hassan returned last week to Canada, continuing to wait for news about their lost cousin Mustafa.

If anybody, reading this story, has some information on the where about of Mustapha, now also in his nineties, please contact me, as soon as possible.

news from arabstan

News from Arabstan (Europe) former Ravenstein

By David Verveer

It is now 5 years since the mini-state Arabstan was created after a short war of independence. The micro state is situated between Belgium and Holland and occupies the historical region of Ravenstein and parts of the provinces North Brabant and Belgium's Limburg. The Islamite population is mainly composed out Immigrant laborers working in the German Ruhr Region, Rotterdam and Antwerp, who commute each day by train to and from their work places.

Funny enough, the only place in the European Common Market with customs and border control is on the borders between Arabstan and its neighbors, but it seems that this is a friendly border, now that the threat of Russian influence on Arabstan has subsided. As you most likely will remember, the Russian Leader Putin tried to establish a nuclear base as retaliation on Nato bases in the former Soviet states, but this threat was cancelled when suddenly the president of Arabstan declared that Arabstan will not be a tool in the new developing cold war between the West and East. A rumor says that this statement came after the European Union told Arabstan if it allows Russian bases Europe will close its borders and not allow any Arabstan workers to work.

The entire situation of an Islamic state in the middle of the Christian nations worked out much better than was expected, not only did Arabstan reject the strict Moslem laws, as they would cause conflicts with its neighbors, it also allowed full freedom of religion.

Arabstan reduced the Islamic conflicts in countries such as France, Belgium and Holland. Funny enough, the crime rate in Western Europe was considerably reduced after the creation of an Islamic free state, which accepted everybody of the Islamic faith, even if they had problems with the police in their states of origin.

This year, over 100,000 Arabstanies went on Hajj during the holidays of Idl fatha, extra flights were put in between Arabstan International Airport and Mecca, without custom services generally required for international flights from and to Arabstan.

Also the holy town Islamabad (former Oosteren) staged a secondary pilgrimage for those, who could not afford the cost of the Hajj, (4.000 Euro), with as center the Mosque and the burial site and stone memorial for their martyrs, who died in the war of independence

The only negative question remains, is the problem of the refugees (the original population, around 200,000 people living in refugee camps near the borders of Arabstan.. The plight of those refugees, forced to live in camps, is terrible, most are penniless, and fled without possessions, workless and without future. The European states refuse to deal with their problem, as it would mean an acceptance of the Arabstan, which in fact is a blessing, but can not be admitted as such, as it would mean a loss of face for the European Union.

Those refugee camps are hardly suitable to house people, the medical and social services are restricted to the minimum. People, who have the same faith as the host country, are treated as potential enemies. Those refugees are near rebellion and surely, if no solution is found soon, this situation will explode in the faces of the European Union.

The financial status of Arabstan is excellent, due to the income derived from the laborers working for the European industries, and many international banks have opened branches in Arabstan. Their shops and super markets are full with fresh imports from Holland and Belgium; of course the fact that the currency in Arabstan is the Euro simplifies the financial status of the country.

It became evident that the Islam state could survive without an army, with only a relative small police force who fully cooperates with the forces of the surrounding countries.

The only pity is that all this is based on my fertile imagination, and in fact Europe will face a major show down with its Islamic population, which will fight to the bitter end in trying to convert Europe to an Islamic region, intolerant to anybody of another faith, luckily I live in Israel, without any Islamic problems.

happy new year

Alweer eind van het jaar

Lieve allemaal, een heel wijs en oud mannetje heeft mij verteld dat de tijd steeds sneller gaat met de jaren. Toen ik nog een kleine jongen was duurde een jaar erg lang, nu dat ik een paar dagen ouder ben, is het jaar zo over, niet lang geleden heb ik jullie een prettig kerstfeest en gelukkig nieuwjaar toegewenst, en nu is het alweer zover. Maar natuurlijk betekend dit ook dat we ons amuzeren, want rot tijden gaan ook erg langzaam voorbij.

Ik werk nog steeds in Intel, het was maar voor 2.en half maanden maar ik werk er nu al 7 half maanden en het einde is nog lang niet in zicht, Ik verlang soms naar die tijd dat ik tijd had om niets tedoen, op mijn manier, maar nu ben ik blij als ik naar bed kan gaan. Het werk is op zich zelf wel interresant, want elke dag zijn er nieuwe problemen, nieuwe eisen en problemen die persoonlijk opgelost moeten worden.

Over onze gezondheid mogen we niet klagen, wehebben er niets bij gekregen, en wat we hebben, kunnen we makkelijk aan.

Onze kinderen en klein kinderen doen het ook goed, Tal heeft een nieuwe baan gekregen en begint ze een Januari. Het betaald veel meer dan ze nu krijgt maar moet ze ook veel meer uren maken. Maar dat is begrijpelijk, je krijgt niets voor niets. Dit betekend ook natuurlijk dat Oma en Opa, dat zijn wij, moeten helpen met Tom van school op tehalen, twee of drie keer per week, maar dat is prima, we hebben zo beter kontakt. Niv zit nog steeds op die gecombineerde opleiding, en studeert ook op de universiteit, niet gek voor een jongetje van 14 jaar oud. Ik zeg wel jongetje, maar hij is veel groter dan ik ben, maar goed, zijn vader was ook een reus.

Dana is weeer terug in Barbados, ze zweren dat dit hun laatste jaar is, maar ik geloof het niet, ze hebben nu een huis gehuurd aan het Caribische stand, met een private zwembad, en een grote tuin, hier in Israel kunnen ze zo een luxe niet veroorloven, maar ja, ze hebben heimwee en willen dat de kinderen hier op school zullen gaan.

Wij gaan niet zo vlug daar op bezoek daar het handen vol met geld kost, en moeten we nu beginnen tedenken over de toekomst, als we ouder worden.

Maar ja, we zien en praten met ze bijna elke dag, met de help van de computer (skype), en dat help natuurlijk.

Nurit werkt nog steeds, klaagt er over dat ze moet werken, maar ik ben zeker dat als ze er uiteindelijk mee stopt, zal ze haar vreselijk vervelen. Ze vindt het ergste haar lange bus tochten elke dag, maar ken ze iedereen van de pasagiers, en is het een morgen en avond clubje, met vaste deelnemers.

Uiteindelijk is hier de winter ook begonnen, en hebben we al een paar dagen van regen en kou achter de rug. Niet zo koud als bij jullie, maar genoeg om verkouden te worden. Maar de regen hebben we hard nodig, als onze water toestand erg kritiek begint teworden. Tussen twee haakjes, jullie merken het, mijn speller werkt niet, en zit het vol met taal en type fouten, maar ik hoop dat tussen de regels jullie me toch zullen begrijpen, ik weet het ik zal nooit een prijs voor het grote Nederlandse dictee tekrijgen.

Intussen ga ik door met opinies en korte verhalen (in het Engels). tepublizeren op het Net, en heb ik daar heel veel plezier van, mijn blog adres is dverveer.blogspot.com. en daar kunnen jullie mijn nonsens lezen. Het is merkwaardelijk dat schijnbaar veel mensen mijn nonsens lezen, als mijn blogs (essays) worden overgenomen bij meerdere mensen. Het is nu een gennesmiddel voor mij, om mijn onbegrip van deze wereld bekent temaken, vroeger kon alleen de journalist zijn opinies kwijt, vandaag met het Net, is iedereen een journalist, met het voordeel dat als ze het niet willen lezen of wel willen lezen, maakt niemand wat uit.

Politiek gezien, gaan we er niet op vooruit, het is nog steeds knudde in het zuiden, en gaan wij een nieuwe oorlog krijgen, want het kan zo niet doorgaan, dat we worden gebombadeert door de buren over de grens.

Luitjes, dit briefje is lang genoeg en moeten we maar wat overhouden voor de volgende keer,

Van harte prettige feestdagen en gelukkig nieuwjaar,

Nurit en David

my uncle sam and aunt frieda

My uncle Sam and my Aunty Frieda

By David Verveer

My Uncle Sam was the oldest brother of my mother, born in 1895, in The Hague Holland. When he was 18, my Grandmother died from cancer, and my Grandfather was forced to take a housekeeper, to take care of the younger children (my mother at the time was 7 years old). The first housekeeper was a girl from Germany, from the northern harbor town Lubeck. We are talking about the years after the First World War, which was lost by the Germans (Holland remained neutral. Great poverty caused the young people to look for jobs outside Germany, and this is the reason that Frieda Hill arrived and started working for the Jewish family Alter.

My Uncle Sam was not very intelligent, rather a likable simpleton, and soon love developed between Sam and Frieda, and even though the Jewish community did not approve of mixed couples, they married and in actual fact he was excommunicated from his Shul (synagogue), a fact he took extremely hard.

Aunty Frieda was a very short woman, very fat and of course, even though no Einstein, kilometers more intelligent than my uncle. My uncle worked for a packaging factory owned by Jews, and worked there until his retirement 1955.

During the Second World War, after the German Arm attacked and occupied Holland, and Jews were taken to the camps, my uncle was taken to a concentration camp, were he remained until the end of the war. He returned home in 1945, a broken man with a heart complaint, which would kill him a few years after retirement.

He never understood what was going on, simply lived his life from day to day. The new inventions such as an electric shaver nearly killed him as he put it before shaving in the water. His only pride was his polished shoes, and his only complaint to us was the terrible state of our shoes. He seldom left the house, nor did he read papers, but I don't think he was ever bored, as boredom requires a certain amount of intelligence.

Writing about him, is very difficult, as he never conveyed any emotions or interest in us or anybody else.

On one of his birthdays, my mother brought him pictures of the Portuguese synagogue in The Hague, where my grandfather served as caretaker (after he lost all his money and his business, in sorrow because the early demise of my grandmother), and where my uncle would pray, before the war, as he was unwelcome in the Ashkenazi synagogue, due to him marrying a non Jewish wife. He was very emotional over the gift (the first time and last time that I saw him happy and exited).

My aunty was absolute the opposite, she was inquisitive, talked non stop (she did not have a German accent, and nobody in the neighborhood knew that she was German.

After the war, my mother remained alone (my father was executed by the Germans), with 4 small children, and my aunt was our only family in the town. I had another surviving aunt, but she lived in another town with her two daughters, and 3 cousins on my father's side, who also lived outside our town.

She would come over (by tramway, a trip of over one hour) to help my mother with the laundry, mending of clothes, sometime cooking and babysit, in short, she was a blessing.

She loved us very much, but had terrible ways in showing us her love, she would kiss us, embrace us and shout (she never talked quietly), and if we had the luck (let us say misfortune) to meet her in the street, she would embarrass us terribly, but you could not complain, she loved us and would do everything for us. Her squeezes (knijpjes) were famous, enough to try to avoid her, but we were everything for her, and her devotion to us and our mother was without limit.

In 1955 our family fell apart, my oldest brother had already immigrated to Israel, my second brother went with the army to Suriname South America (at that time, a Dutch colony), I went to study in England, and my mother remained home with only my sister. The relationship between my mother and my aunt became relatively strained, as my mother did not have the patience for the lamentations of the aging women, who complained about the bad people, the neighbors, the postman, the shop owner, etc.

She loved buying hats (especially green ones), and later on changing furniture (a thing unheard of during my uncles lifetime).

In 1958 I also immigrated to Israel, and in the following years both my sister and mother came also to Israel, and my aunt remained absolutely alone in The Hague.

I feel still somehow guilty about her, but her contact with us was through long letters with my mother and birthday cards on birthdays, .and my second brother followed us to Israel several years later.

When I returned to Holland, for studies 7 years later, we my wife and I would visit her, bur as we lived far away and did not have a car yet, this would be with intervals of at least six months. Tante Frieda would not talk about her German past, her family, possible brothers and sisters, the only thing she told us that she did not want to visit there, and that she hated Germans and people speaking German to her.

After I finished my study, we moved to Brussels (for my stage) and bought a car. Occasional we would take a trip to visit her, which made her very happy. I remember, once we visited her, and when we left, she asked to accompany us to the car, where she shouted, "this in my nephew with his wife, they came from Belgium to visit me, with their own car".

After I finished my stage and we returned to Israel, (with my daughter 4 months old) she would write to my mother that she was extremely lonely. To solve it, she took in students (who studied at the postal school, near by). She got rather attached to these boys, and would mother them, and smother them with love. She died 86 years old, depraved from the family she loved so much.

Now, 30 years since she passed away, I still feel somehow guilty of leaving her alone, I don't know if there was another way, but I have the feeling we never tried to repay her for her devotion to us.

pimlico revisited

Pimlico revisited

By David Verveer

Do you remember the movie on a neighborhood of London which declared independence? It was a nice sweet and very unlikely story, about historical rights, and individuals which attacked the establishment.

Based on this idea, I continued to fantasize, and far from any reality I composed the continuation of an dependant Pimlico, or for that purpose, Vatican, San Marino, Monaco or Singapore, in short a small identity which is sovereign, living on the side of its much larger neighbors, and for the purpose of my story, the government of the mini state is officially at war with its neighboring country.

Let us create now an impossible situation, where the independent mini state is totally depending on the supply of food, energy, etc on its big neighbor, but not with standing the total dependency, the mini state's army bombards daily an neighboring area with rockets, making the local populations life a hell.

The large neighboring country responses with army actions, trying to prevent the rocket lancers to fire their weapons, but of course finding them between a population of more than a million people, is an impossible target.

Clearly, throwing bombs on innocent population, in order to stop them sending the rockets, is forbidden by humanitarian opinions of the world, thus this pestering continues uninterrupted without punishment, at danger of toppling the government, by those who insist on whipping the mini state from the earth.

You will ask yourself, what does this mini state want in order to stop the rocket firing, the answer is simple; they want to destroy the neighboring country, kill or at least banish its population. O,K, but why does the large state continue to supply food , energy and humanitarian needs to the mini state, the only answer is of course, the public pressure of the world opinion.

It is very easy to be large and humanitarian, when you live far away, and not next door to rocket lancers. You remember my example deals with for example, Monaco bombarding Nice, or the Vatican Rome, or Pimlico London town. A large military action will cost many lives, most of them innocent of any wrong doings, politically, there is no influence on the bandits, they know that when eventually will be destroyed by a large military action, the good world opinion will start to protest and blame the attacking forces for using illegal and un necessary force.

In order to make my story more comprehensible, we will call the mini state Gaza, and the city attacked by rocket, Sderot, but we could also call it Hezbollah and Kiriath Shemona. Funny don't you think, and far fetched, such things could not happen in London or Rome, but wait, impossible things happen, even in civilized Europe.

whom should I believe?

Whom should I believe?

By David Verveer

Eventually I have to admit reading newspapers, following the news on TV and reading the World press on the Internet is a waste of time and distorts the common sense of the reader and watcher. Lately we get information which contradicts each other totally, and as nobody has the tools to check and verify the real truth, we remain absolutely totally confused. Allow me some of the most current samples:

The nuclear threat from Iran, is a question of less important for our brothers in the USA, but rather important for us Israelis, who live nearby those idiots. According to the information given by the international Press, the Persians are planning to flatten the Middle East (Israel is in the middle of the Middle East, and a nuclear bomb will wipe out not only Israel but also the Palestinians living around, and the Jordanians will have to go for nuclear treatment) in about two years time, while some very high ranking spies working for the US, now tell us, the Iranians are peace lovers, and working hard on making this world an healthier place to live in. Tell me, what is the truth?

Global warming, Icebergs melt, ice bears swim, Gore gets the Noble prize, all caused because I am using my car to get to work, but now they found out that 2006 was colder in average than the years before, thus again, what is true?

The average lifespan is rising by the year, we are getting older and healthier, why do they continue to bombard us daily with information on danger for dying from the various diseases, such as over-eating, getting poisoned from using mobile phones or sitting too near the television, and endless other warnings concerning our health, whom should we believe?

Education is improving, a six grade school boy knows more than a scientist in the Middle Ages, specially, we the Israelis are extremely gifted and well educated, but than we look at the worldwide intelligence tests, and we see that Israel comes in the fortieth place of the 50 odd participant countries. Of course that is no wonder, as every time the scale flips, and the opposition comes into power, they change the entire education system with a new master plan. In the mean time our teachers, instead of apologizing for their bad performance, they strike. If I was a teacher, I would shut up and try to advance the pupils instead the material aims, but of course, who knows what the truth is?

Outer space is infinitive, and goes on and on, but who are we giddying in believing we are the only intelligent (?) creatures alive, based on what? What we see or hear? And if there are others, who will ever know, what they know about us, if we are inferior to them or even worth, an anthill to be observed for educational purposes before final destruction.

My conclusion is, that we don't know much, and there is no way we will ever know what the truth is really or what means the word truth.