It is apparent when we catch glimpse of a strange parade upon debarking the bus that we are in the right place: A stray dog trots down the street after three boys who are leading a small horse behind a pickup truck. The truck is filled with musicians – one beating a large, flat drum nestled between his legs. Two lumbering camels stride in front of them all; the animals are frothing at the mouth, the bells lashed to their saddles clanking like particularly non-melodic wind chimes.
People are believed to have been pitting camels against each other in wrestling matches since the days of nomadic caravans. Today, the tradition lives on in winter bouts along Turkey’s Aegean coast. The largest tournament of the year is held in Selçuk – near the historic Ephesus ruins – where organizers recently added a Camel Beauty Contest to the day’s events to draw more interest. The dusty field where we end up on this sunny Sunday is in a nondescript suburb of İzmir, the third-largest city in Turkey and self-proclaimed “most modern and cosmopolitan.”
Camels waited patiently around the makeshift ring, back hooves splayed, soft shackles around their front legs that tether them to stakes pounded into the ground. They are draped with colourful ribbons and blankets, spangled scarves, and banners proclaiming their names and hometowns, but seem oblivious to the children and dogs running amongst them; the people coming up to touch their heads and pose for photos with them; and the itinerant horn player blaring his zurna in their ears.
Rules of the game
From a raised platform alongside the ring, the voice of the cazgır (announcer) rings out with a wish, “May our animals be strong,” before introducing the contestants. “Küçük Ahmet from Zeytindağ has entered the field…”
Camels wrestle by pushing against each others’ sides, straining for the leverage that could allow them to trip the other up or press their rival’s long neck to the ground. Hefty animals, they circle surprisingly quickly, their hoof-work as fleet as any boxer’s. Two teams of neon-vested urgancı (ropemen) squat in a line on either side of the beasts, ready to sprint into action to pull the camels apart – a tug-of-war eagerly joined by spectators who leap the flimsy fences around the ring to pitch in.
A match lasts 10 minutes, and is won when one animal falls, screams, or runs away. The latter outcome is by far the most popular among the assembled crowd, which roars its approval before scattering as nearly a ton of ungulate bulk hurdles toward the rickety metal fencing – sending people pushing and squeezing out of the way, only to return to their positions a moment later.
As the animals grapple nearby, a little girl, with a puffy coat matching her cotton candy, steps away slightly. “Are you scared?” we ask her. Stifling a smile, she throws her head back with an emphatic “Tsk!”
The show on the sidelines
Unlike another traditional Turkish sport, oil wrestling, where the mere sight of four female spectators is enough to attract TV cameras, camel wrestling is a family affair. Rotund middle-aged ladies in headscarves and flowery pants spread out their picnic blankets on the patchy grass as young women in chic boots pick their way through the mud. Older men in caps and suit coats smoke and eat sunflower seeds, while younger ones hang eagerly on the fence, lifting children up to kiss their fathers on the field with their candy-apple-sticky lips. Some spectators sit on flattened cardboard boxes or newspaper-covered rocks; others with ringside tables tucked into meals served on ceramic plates.
Musicians wend their way through the crowd, their songs rising above the din, as they try to entice some of the men drinking rakı around small white plastic tables to get up and dance. One stretches out his arms and does a few steps in front of his camel before nuzzling the beast’s head.
Smoke rises from mangal (barbeque) and nargile (water pipes) set up on the sidelines, where one man is cooking chicken in a pan of oil over a gas canister; a worn piece of plastic is tied on it forming a shield. Others grilled up slices of camel sausage, pressing small loaves of bread into the frying grease before filling them with meat and wrapping them in newspaper.
As the day progresses, trainers begin to pull the unsuccessful camels from the ring. Some load their animals into large trucks while others lead them home on foot, down through the winding streets lined with graceless concrete-block buildings; without even a carpet prize tied to their saddle to show for the day’s exertions.
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Camel-wrestling fun facts
Turkey has around 500 wrestling camels, all male and of the special tülü breed. Most come from Iran, Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan.
Wrestling season lasts from December to March, the animals’ mating period.
Camels perform better in cold weather.
The carpets, saddlebags and other felt and cloth items worn by the camels are traditional crafts of the nomadic Yörük people.
The tournament in Selçuk was held in the Ephesus theatre until the late 1990s, when it was moved due to concerns about damaging the ancient site.
A wrestling camel can cost as much as 160,000 Turkish Liras (approximately 80,000 Euros) and eat up to 5,000 Turkish Liras’ (approximately 2,500 Euros) worth of food a year.
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A jaunt to İzmir
The last two camel-wrestling tournaments of the season are in İzmir’s Haydarlı district (March 6) and the nearby city of Manisa’s Gökkaya district (March 20). With regular flights and overnight bus service from Istanbul to İzmir, it’s easy to take a quick trip to catch this unique event.
STAY: The hotels in İzmir aren’t cheap, but the attractive Park Hotel İzmir (150 Turkish Liras/75 Euros per night) and the homey Güzel İzmir Oteli (100 Turkish Liras/50 Euros) both offer good value. Park Hotel İzmir, (0232) 425 33 33. 1366 Sokak, No. 6, Çankaya. Güzel İzmir Oteli, (0232) 483 50 69. 1368 Sokak, No. 8, Basmane.
EAT: Kırçiçeği is a firm favourite for kebab and pide in the restaurant-rich Alsancak district. Kırçiçeği, (0232) 464 30 90. 1443 Sokak, No. 83, Alsancak.
EXPLORE: Hop on a minibus for a daytrip to the less-visited ruins of Sardis, the ancient capital of the Lydian Kingdom, or the beach towns of the Çeşme peninsula, blissfully sleepy this time of year.
This article was originally published in the March 2011 issue of Time Out Istanbul (view jpg version).