The truth: The old Ottoman letter

My Leo.

I am writing this in a terrible hurry, because I have so much to do in a very short time. I think you will most likely never be able to read this, but I would be very sorry if I left you with nothing. I still don't know if you can read. I never found out. Anyway, I have to write in Greek, with the Greek letters, because that's all I can write. I don't have time to work out Turkish in Greek letters, and I don't know the Turkish letters at all. It occurs to me that I am, after all, writing this letter to myself.

My lion, you must know that after you bought me from Kardelen, I first loved you out of fear and necessity. Then I began to love you completely with all my body and my heart. Those were our years in paradise. Then our love finally became like the love of brother and sister, and those were our years of contentment and peace. Because of this, because of what our love has become, it is now possible for me to leave this place and continue to love you without too much sorrow. I will miss you, and there will forever be a hole in my heart in the form of Rustem Bey, and I will remember you every time I play old, or eat garlic, or do all kinds of things that we used to do together. I will miss you, but my grief will not be unbearable, for our love now belongs to brother and sister, not lovers. I hope there will always be a hole in your heart in the form of your loan.

My lion, I'm not Leyla. I cheated on you for a long time. I'm not a Circassian either, and I know you appreciated me more because you thought I was. I must tell you that I am not a Muslim either, and my name is loanna, and I am Greek. I come from a little place called Ithaca, and ever since I left it, I've longed with all my heart to return. I've always had a hole in my heart that's the same shape as Ithaca. Now that a crossing to Greece has been arranged, this is my chance to go home to Ithaca. I now think that I will never have children, and this is a reason for me to look for the relatives who are still there, so that one day my bones will rest in the right place.

My Leo, when I was a little girl, I came from a good family. As you see, I can write, which is the proof. I was abducted by wicked men who found me in the olive grove behind my parents' house, after they beached their boat and came ashore and beat my mother and father, took their goods and their animals and their destroyed the house. out of wantonness. They treated me badly and I was badly mistreated, and I was trafficked first in Sicily, then in Cyprus and then to Kardelen in Istanbul. I suppose you didn't realize what Kardelen really was, since you are not wise to the world, even though you are the aga around here. You've never been corrupt in a city. Kardelen was a man who was also a woman, he was one of God's victims, but he was the first to treat me right, and he made me what I am. He made me learn oud, which has been my greatest pleasure in life, and he taught me how to be a good hetaera and how to appreciate luxury. He gave me much of the money you bought me with, and you didn't know it.

My lion, you have been fooled all these years, and in more ways than I care to admit. I am ashamed of my deceit, but I have made up for it through the many pleasures we have enjoyed together.

My lion, I long to hear Greeks call me by my real name, speak my own language, and hear its sweet melody in my ears. I was disappointed when I got here to find out that the Greeks don't speak Greek. Now they will have to learn.

My lion, if I had stayed here I would have died with the name 'Ithaca' on my lips. Now, however, in Ithaca when I

die the name on my lips will be yours. I'll say 'Restem'. my lion, and then I will die. When you die, let the name on your lips be mine, and the face in your mind's eyes be mine too

My lion, please don't come after me. I'm going to find Ithaca, which has haunted my dreams for so many years. and who is tied to my heart like an invisible rope and now pulls me back, even against my will. May you also find your Ithaca, if you have one. If you don't have one, you'll have to raise one for you. you do

I leave you with Pamuk, who is too old and lazy to travel, and too accustomed to bliss, and who has come to love you more than she ever loved me. You must be good to her because she never tried to eat one of your partridges despite your fears. Don't forget to feed her with cheese and bits of liver, and comb her so that the fur doesn't get matted, now that her teeth have all fallen out and she can't remove the matted herself. When she dies, see that she is properly buried under the orange tree in the courtyard, in the place she likes, and don't throw her away to be eaten by dogs or birds. I only take the bare necessities and my oud, and the string of gold coins to go around my forehead, which was the first gift you ever gave me, and that's the thing in the world I value most, and I take other gifts you gave me so that I can remember you, and not so that I can use the wealth.

My lion, farewell with a full heart, and with love and gratitude forever, and till we meet again in heaven, this is your loanna who was Leyla, and who loves you by all the names she ever had, and regardless names.