(no subject)
Время от времени буду выписывать интересующие меня отрывки из этой книги:
From the Holy Mountain: A Journely Amont the Christians of the Middle East
William Dalrymple
Urfa (ancient Edessa)
On my way back to the hotel I passed the old Armenian cathedral. Between 1915 and last year it was a fire station; now, as I discovered, it is being converted into a mosque. The altar has been dismantled, leaving the apse empty. A mihrab has been punched into the south wall. A new carpet covers the floor; outside lies a pile of old ecclesiastical woodwork destined for firewood. Two labourers in baggy pantaloons were at work on the facade, balanced on a rickety lattice of scaffolding, plastering the decorative stonework over the principal arch. I wondered if they knew the history of the buidlng, so I asked them if it was an old mosque.
- No, - one of the workmen shouted down. - It's a church.
- Greek?
- No, - he said, - Armenian.
- Are there any Armenians left in Urfa?
- No, - he said, smiling broadly and laughing. His friend made a throat-cutting gesture with the trowel.
- They've all gone, - said the first man, smiling.
- Where to?
The two looked at each other. - Israel, - said the first man, after a pause. He was grinning from ear to ear.
- I thought Israel was for Jews, - I said.
- Jews, Armenian, - he replied, shrugging his shoulders. - Same thing.
The two men went back to work, cackling with laughter as they did so.
From the Holy Mountain: A Journely Amont the Christians of the Middle East
William Dalrymple
Urfa (ancient Edessa)
On my way back to the hotel I passed the old Armenian cathedral. Between 1915 and last year it was a fire station; now, as I discovered, it is being converted into a mosque. The altar has been dismantled, leaving the apse empty. A mihrab has been punched into the south wall. A new carpet covers the floor; outside lies a pile of old ecclesiastical woodwork destined for firewood. Two labourers in baggy pantaloons were at work on the facade, balanced on a rickety lattice of scaffolding, plastering the decorative stonework over the principal arch. I wondered if they knew the history of the buidlng, so I asked them if it was an old mosque.
- No, - one of the workmen shouted down. - It's a church.
- Greek?
- No, - he said, - Armenian.
- Are there any Armenians left in Urfa?
- No, - he said, smiling broadly and laughing. His friend made a throat-cutting gesture with the trowel.
- They've all gone, - said the first man, smiling.
- Where to?
The two looked at each other. - Israel, - said the first man, after a pause. He was grinning from ear to ear.
- I thought Israel was for Jews, - I said.
- Jews, Armenian, - he replied, shrugging his shoulders. - Same thing.
The two men went back to work, cackling with laughter as they did so.