1. Geographical Location and Boundaries

Turabdin covers an area of roughly 10,000 km², lying approximately between Mardin to the west, Hasankeyf (the Tigris River) to the north, Cizre to the east and Nusaybin (the Syrian border) to the south. Midyat is historically regarded as the center of the region.

2. The Heart of Syriac Culture

Turabdin is one of the most important religious and cultural centers of the Syriac Orthodox community in the world. From the 4th century AD onwards it has been the cradle of Christian eremitic life and monastic culture. Owing to this characteristic, it is also referred to in the Christian world as the "Mount Athos of the East", in reference to Mount Athos in Greece.

3. Prominent Historical Structures

The region is home to numerous ancient churches and monasteries, which are also included on the UNESCO World Heritage Tentative List:

• Mor Gabriel Monastery (Deyrulumur): Founded in 397, it is one of the oldest surviving Syriac Orthodox monasteries in the world.
• Deyrüzzaferân Monastery: A structure located near Mardin which served for many years as the seat of the Syriac Patriarchate.
• Church of the Virgin Mary in Hah (Anıtlı): With its architecture, it is one of the most distinctive and oldest structures in the region.
• Mor Evgin Monastery: Built on a slope overlooking the Mesopotamian plain, it is one of the starting points of the tradition of the "mountain of the Syriacs".

4. Historical Heritage

Turabdin bears the traces not only of the Syriacs but of many civilizations such as the Sumerians, Akkadians, Hittites, Assyrians, Persians, Romans and Ottomans. With its multicultural fabric in which languages (Syriac, Arabic, Kurdish, Turkish) and religions coexist, the region is described as the "land of religions and languages".

Compiled by the Institute

HIS NAME WAS TURABDIN

It was a Monday. It was the day after the first autumn rain had drizzled gently down. Greeting the day with a morning washed in the bright and clear rays of the sun set one's heart aflutter. It was a morning as transparent, as plain and clean as could be. The surroundings were brimming with fragrance. The sun was all but one with Mother Nature. In an enviable love and organic solidarity, it scattered light and smiles all around.

The beauty, transparency, unadulterated simplicity and cleanliness of this scene awakened an indescribable exhilaration and delight in me. Yet despite it, I could not free myself from my longings and expectations about life. With the expectations and longings gnawing at me, I said to myself: "Ah, if only life, too, could always be so transparent, always so beautiful and clean."

And then I found myself suddenly alone with the thoughts that flocked into me like birds in flight. One more day was catching on the poplars of the past. With the sunset, a great silence had come to reign over the surroundings. This silence did not resemble any ordinary silence. Pondering the reason for it, exhausted and defeated, I threw myself into the lap of the night. Probably owing to the fatigue of that day spent in routine tasks, before long I fell asleep. It was so deep a sleep that no trace of the day's wearying fatigue remained in me.

In the mysterious and strange darkness of that desolate night, seized by a dreadful feeling, I found myself in my dream in conversation with a familiar and endearing face whose friendship I knew so well.

I said to him: "Why do you blow so angrily? When you ought to be surging and flowing, what is this throwing yourself to the ground? It has been a long time since I saw you. What is it that batters and bruises you so? I almost feel a stranger to you now. In this state of yours, I am coming to be repelled by you."

He said to me: "It is you who must think about the reason for this. The answer lies in you and in those who, like you, have let themselves be carried away by other airs. You brought me to this state. Despite all my admonitions, I could never make you understand my trouble. You did not want to understand me. Do not look at my greying hair. I am old, but my soul is young. I am weary, worn out from being unable to make you understand my trouble. To face abandonment, to be left all alone, is a very bitter feeling. It has disfigured my face. Though I do not consent to this state of mine, there is nothing I can do. Whether I can regain my health, as in days gone by, I do not know. But if nothing changes, I shall choose for myself one death among deaths. Yet what happens will happen to you, and is happening..."

I said to him: "What if we did something to restore you to that health of yours? Yes, the consequences were bitter, but we have begun to learn that not living with you is bad. Have we no chance at all? What must we do to win you back?"

In an inquiring and judging tone he said to me: "A difficult question. I am wrestling with so chronic and relentless an illness that I do not know how you could bring me back to life and to yourselves. Frankly, I do not trust you either. For you have no fundamental ideal binding you to life. Living without an ideal strips a person of humanity. You are floundering in the lap of a dreadful indifference. Your words and your practice do not match. This impertinence does not become you. You are losing the values that make you "you". Do not take offense or resent it. If you do a little mental gymnastics, you will observe this truth better than I…"

I said to him: "Well, what will become of us; breaking away from each other like this, drifting apart every day, how much longer can we live? While this indifference batters you, it wears us down. In other words, it is a bad situation. You too will appreciate that there must surely be a way out of this. It is said that every ailment has a remedy. Or, wasting away as we are, is there no cure left for us?"

He said to me: "There is a way... There is a remedy too... But there is nothing I can do anymore. It is you who must find that way and that remedy. Perhaps then…"

I said to him: "Perhaps then everything will be as it once was. And you, restored to health, will blossom again like a spring flower and stretch out once more in your immortal values. And we shall come to life through those sacred values of yours, and with your rising up we shall raise joyous praises and hymns to the Lord of the universe. We shall gain a new spirit from your magnificent spiritual dimension. We shall be gladdened all the more by your smiles. Thanks to your smiling, our sullenness will end and we shall gather spiritual strength for ourselves. Then you will not be angry with us. You will not blow and bluster. You will not scorch and sear us with deep thoughts. Our trust and love for one another will be revived and, growing, will take on a new meaning. We shall be ourselves. Since we shall have understood that we can be nothing without you, we shall cherish you all the more and strive to protect you all the more."

He said to me: "Ah, if only I could trust you. Then this weariness the illness has given me would vanish. Nor would I utter these bitter words that come from my sincerity. I can no longer prevent what is happening. I have no strength left. Abandonment has broken my backbone. That is why I have fallen into this state which displeases you and makes you recoil from me. Whatever there is in me to be remembered has turned to pain. I have long been explaining myself to you. You do not listen. Because my words and my soul differ from yours, you do not understand me. You leave me weak and alone. While losing me, you forget that you are destroying yourselves as well. And this state of mine… you…"

...And then, in the throes of death, he suddenly lapsed into a sorrowful and dark silence.

As for me, I touched him. I caressed him. He was utterly wretched. From neglect and poor nourishment he was reduced to skin and bone. I leaned my back against his bountiful body and tried to perceive and understand his soul, which was about to pass over into timelessness (eternity). His soul was too strong to die, full of love and compassion. When my eyes caught the beautiful subtleties of that soul radiating vitality, I was deeply distressed and ashamed. In the face of our concrete reality, I sank into the ground.

And just as I wished to gaze fully upon his soul and breathe it in to my heart's content, I was awakened from sleep by the sound of rushing water heard from afar.

I was hurt and angry. I had woken without making peace with him, without coming to an understanding. I closed my eyes again in order to see him. I had forgotten to ask his name. I shouted, I called out... I pleaded... But whatever I did was of no avail. That familiar, ailing, young-souled old one whose friendship I knew so well did not hear me.

Yet I learned afterwards that His name was Turabdin.