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The beginning.

A New Witch

11/8/2016

23 Comments

 
​The last six weeks have been merciless. The dragon of summer has awoken. And it’s on the rampage, hurling its fiery breath down the valley, stamping its hot, horned feet on our earth, flattening us all.

Yes it has been one long bombardment; I have run from a forest fire, my dog died only to rise again like Lazarus, Istanbul airport was bombed, Britain voted to leave the EU, and we here in Turkey suffered an attempted coup. All this in temperatures that broil and bake and scorch us into twitching scraps of desiccated flesh.

If I am navigating the path through the flames with any ease at all, it’s because of one thing. My land. My marvel-packed patch of Gaia. I am in awe. Brimming with gratitude. Because the miracles and angels just keep on raining down, extinguishing the flames and soothing the burns.

But dear land. You have changed hands. There’s a new mud witch now...
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Night on Mud Mountain
PictureDeniz and Alp
It all began on Friday 14th July, the night I finally completed the advert for my house. I breathed deeply under a swelling moon when I hit the publish button, for the ad was equivalent to saying goodbye. To leaving. The heat pulsed tenaciously through the darkness. The air weighed me down. I hesitated, not quite daring yet to share the advert on social media.

The next morning I awoke early to post my announcement. But I failed again. Because there had been an attempted coup.

Here on Mud Mountain that bloody upheaval was invisible. There were no tanks or helicopters or lynch mobs nestled within the folds of the Lycian mountains. Yet even I sensed the tension. It was pulled taut over the fabric of the land like some sort of insidious shrink wrap. I’ve lived in this country for almost twenty years. I speak the language fluently. It is the place I have for two decades called home. We’ve had our excitements before, our peculiarly Turkish bloodless ‘coups’ where the army has arrested an ultra-conservative, called an election, and business resumes as usual. But this was far more sinister. For the first time a chill stole through me. Chaos felt close. Too close.

Overnight, the beaches cleared as each of Turkey’s civil servants were called back to their posts. The expressions of the locals here dropped limp in the face of disappearing incomes. An eerie silence slid along the coast. And it hung there like the dank air from a long forgotten tomb.

But I know Turkey. For better or worse, these things are soon swept under the nearest hand-woven rug. I waited two days for the dust to settle. Then I breathed again. Opening my laptop, I turned it on and posted my ad.

It was a bleak type of perfect timing. Within days I had so many inquiries I couldn’t keep track of them. Because the open-eyed have begun exiting the city, and even the country itself. I can’t say I blame them.

Within days,  the first viewers of my mud home appeared at the base of my track: A couple from Istanbul stepped out of a car and into the mud. Yes mud. Because very peculiarly it had poured with rain the entire morning, and the steam now rose from the hill creases to swallow the view.

The woman was young. Raven haired. Pretty. And her partner was a small, friendly looking fellow with erratic hair. Slowly we wandered around the plot, into the forest, down to the olive trees. The couple peered at the solar system. They didn’t flinch at the composting toilet. Nor the outside kitchen. I made tea. And we chatted. Easily. Because we had much in common. Deniz concocted herbal remedies and natural beauty products. Alp worked in the music industry. And Deniz’s dad was an architect fascinated by off-grid living and earthships. Soon, I was surprised to find myself having a good time.

At least two hours later the pair rose to leave. How slowly they edged toward the gate. Deniz in particular seemed stuck at the neck of the land, her dark hair dampened by the misty air. And I chuckled. Because my land is such a beguiler.

The next day Deniz phoned. “I guess I’ve warmed to the place. I’m interested in buying,” she said. And my heart lurched.

Oh how I sobbed that night, fretting that it was all too hasty. I wondered how I should know if these were the right people. Squatting on my gazebo with the light fading, I switched on my laptop. Then I opened Facebook to snoop. But when I clicked on Deniz’ profile, I blinked hard. For what should I see, but a “witch workshop” she was organising. Witch. She was a witch? Something sang inside my chest. And the pine trees rustled.

Three days later Deniz placed a deposit on the land. I was calm by then. I knew they were the right people. Incredible as it might be, I had sold my land in less than a week.

***
This Sunday, a roaster of a day if ever there was one, Deniz and Alp drove back to my mud home. They had come to learn the art of earth plastering.  It was late afternoon. The sun dove behind the trees, but it made no difference. The wind was a type of fire that all but charred our skin. The air itself was aflame.

Quickly, I wheeled the barrow and the sieve into place. Alp ferried the earth and water over. Deniz softened the clay and mixed the plaster. And as I watched her hands stirring the mud, the feeling that bloomed within me was one of gratitude and wonder. Taking a step back, I stared over at Grandmother Olive and heard her whisper.

“You see?”

As Deniz lobbed the plaster gently at the house, and rubbed it in over one or two cracks, she smiled. Then looked up at me. “Oh,” she said. “I see completely why you want to build another one.”

Later, as evening wove through the trees and settled onto the slope, we hunkered down in the gazebo. The teapot was full. The conversation flowed anew.

“Once I travelled over land to India,” Deniz said sipping at her tea glass. 

​I turned toward her, gaping in the darkness. “You travelled through Iran and Pakistan?”

“Yes,” she said. “Me and a girl friend back in 2008.

“No one does that trip,” I said shaking my head a little. “No one. I did it back in 2009 the other way round. It was the hairiest and simultaneously most incredible journey of my life.”

“Same here, “Deniz laughed. She was a strong young woman, healthy and able. I punched her lightly on the arm and raised my tea glass to her. “Respect.” I said. She fell back and grinned.

That night, Deniz and Alp slept on the gazebo with a happy Rotty the dog flaked out beside them. The stars shone their magic onto them, shifting into new patterns and collaborative shapes. And I sensed it. The slight movement of the trees. The reaching toward.

As the sun peeped over the forest the next morning, the first bars of gold light struck the earth. I spied a figure; Deniz treading slowly over the land, dark hair now plaited into a single braid. She was dressed in patterned salwars and a vest top with sunglasses perched on her head. Suddenly I was watching a younger version of myself. A new mud witch. And I just knew. She was hearing it. Feeling it.

It was four pm on the 8th of August that Deniz and I signed the deeds. As we sat together in the deeds office waiting for the haphazard cog of Turkish bureaucracy to grind to a conclusion, such a wave of happiness crashed over me. I felt blessed. This was all perfect. For the land. For them and for me.

“I was a bit worried in the night. I wasn’t sure I could manage all the trees. And the digging. I suddenly wondered whether I could do it,” Deniz said as we huddled on the uncomfortable plastic chairs. We watched the human movement behind the glass of the deeds office carefully, willing them to action.

“Don’t worry, the land will help you,” I confided. “If you ever feel doubt, just remember. I couldn’t even bang a nail in when I moved there. I didn’t know a thing.”
​
An official barked at us from behind the glass. I met Deniz’s brown eyes with my green ones. It was a good moment. Auspicious. Right.
  
                                                                          ***
That evening, as I lay on my gazebo with Rotty the dog panting beside me, I felt the power of this planet. The prodigiousness of it all. The unbridled love. The extraordinary. I arrived here five years ago with no money and no clue. Since then I’ve been inspired and supported to build a home, a thriving website, and a writing career. Suddenly I am in abundance, possessing a brand new skill set, energetically, emotionally and financially equipped for a new adventure.

But that’s not all. You see I’m not leaving Mud Mountain just yet. I’m still here until mid-September, because Deniz can’t move in before then. Which is perfect timing, because that’s exactly when my earthbag workshop starts. :)

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23 Comments
Philippa Rees link
12/8/2016 12:19:01 pm

Sounds perfect, poignant, brave of all of you. Mud mountain has enriched all who have encountered it. Bon voyage and love.

Reply
Atulya
12/8/2016 01:32:31 pm

Ah...such a beautiful circle. Thank you Philippa for your ever thoughtful remarks. Much valued and appreciated.

Reply
Peter Lloyd
12/8/2016 12:47:11 pm

Dear Atulya,

I just wanted to send you good wishes on your continued adventures after the Mud House. And thanks for spreading your inspiration and magic. I was lucky enough to be staying in Wivenhoe when you gave your talk here at the Wivenhoe Bookshop. (Although I'll not be here for much longer - I'm heading to Canterbury to begin a PhD, which I should finish in 2019, just before my 60th birthday.)

I realise that it is only in my wilder fantasies that I would ever build a mud home. But I very much appreciate the inspiration you give by being a sane, rational, down-to-earth woman who makes a totally crazy dream come true. Hats off to you!

Namaste,
Peter

Reply
Atulya
12/8/2016 01:35:02 pm

Peter! Nice to hear from you. Yes I remember that talk with great fondness. Oh good for you, on your own adventure of the mind. And if I'm in Canterbury in my mud mobile I shall look you up:)

Reply
Merete
12/8/2016 01:33:35 pm

A new chapter, a new adventure is about to begin. A new road is to be build on your way. We wish you a good and happy travel on your new trail 🌞❤️
Sarah, Line, Merete, Kim

Reply
Atulya
12/8/2016 09:34:00 pm

So good to see you. Best wishes to you all in Denmark!

Reply
Dee Brown
12/8/2016 01:50:23 pm

Oh Atulya ... why, oh why, am I so emotionally invested in your mud home????

I feel like I was there with you through every experience that you have shared with us. I think I know why it feels like it's my mud home. Firstly because you are such an eloquent writer, I got totally sucked in and got teleported mentally and emotionally into your space; sharing every emotion and incident with you as your written words seeped into every cell in my body, where somehow they became my reality too.

However, the other very real reason is because you dreamed my/your/our dream into reality. I got to experience my dream through you and for that I am ever grateful.

Please forgive me if the following sounds like the rantings of a mad woman. The difficult bit for me now is the letting go. Poof - just like that - done and dusted, time to move on! You see it's all been too sudden for me, there's been no mental preparation to recall the fragments of my soul which have taken root in the mud. Blimey Atulya, you and the mud have filled a void in my soul and again I feel absolute gratitude, thank you.

Having put this on paper I can feel my fragmented bits stirring in preparation to return, making me whole and filling me with the enthusiasm to embark on my own (mud?) adventure.

May the new owner and the mud be a match made in heaven. As for you Atulya, I just know that everyone who comes into your space is going to be forever changed. Go forth and manifest, beautiful soul that you are.

Much love
Dee

Reply
Atulya
12/8/2016 09:31:38 pm

Wow, thanks Dee! What can I say? But you're certainly not alone. There has been much lamenting. I suppose I can envisage the new sort of inside me, which is making the transition much easier. But of course you can't see inside me, so you're in the dark so to speak. But yes, yes, how wonderful it would be, to fill the void with your own adventure, muddy or otherwise. I await your tales:)

Reply
Tina M Albertson
12/8/2016 03:56:39 pm

Atulya, I found your blog after your mud house was complete and have devoured what I could of your instructions. You have inspired me to build my dream home.
You mentioned a workshop. I was wondering if, by any chance, you might be traveling in the United States.
I hope you continue with your blog even though you have sold your beloved home.

Reply
Atulya
12/8/2016 09:33:11 pm

Hello Tina. Yes! So glad you were inspired. Right now I'm not coming to the US, but hey, who knows? I've stopped trying to second guess the future.:)

Reply
Tina M Albertson
18/8/2016 02:39:21 am

I'm looking forward to your next project. Please keep us informed on what's going on with you. We have never met, but I feel like you are a friend.
I'm hoping to start my home in September. I will be using your book as my instruction manual.
Sleep well, you are in my prayers.

Mike link
12/8/2016 09:35:04 pm

Well the Carob Tree was right again 'out with the old in with the new", what ever roads you travel, and dream you pursue, Please Please Please, continue with your writings, a tremendous ray of sunshine and uplifting moments for me. Your unique use of words is mesmerizing to say the least, and Insidiously captivating. I look forward to your next post, like a foolish kid in a candy store. Wow what a spell you've spun upon me. Best of the best to you, waiting for your next post even though the inks not dry on this one. Love ya Mike

Reply
Atulya
13/8/2016 10:13:44 pm

Yup, the carob tree got it right back in November. I shall still be writing. From my van. Looking for my new spot of Gaia. :) Thanks for your uplifting comments Mike!

Reply
Kit
13/8/2016 03:30:28 am

I am so glad to hear that the river of your journey is flowing strongly but peacefully toward your next great adventure! I am so inspired by you and your spirit and strength! I would love to attend your workshop, but I will be in the middle of my own mud adventure! We are breaking ground as soon as possible, but are waiting for our summer dragon to cool some first! The heat index on my land was 115°F today!!! But we hope by the end of August we will be digging our rubble trench too!
Blessing to all! I love that the land has drawn another earth witch as one of her guardians 😊

Reply
Atulya
13/8/2016 10:14:46 pm

Hi Kit, oh wow, so it's boiling everywhere...
Yes I'm so happy the magic will continue here. Ah... it's good.

Reply
Daniela
15/8/2016 12:13:50 am

Dear Atulya,
I have just bought your book and probably going to read it in one breath as I did with each post on this blog.
Your blog has been my secret hiding place. I think no one would expect wife, mother of two, bank employee and true Christian living an "ordinary life" to carefully read and ingest every word you've written:) Your life is unconventional,your writing magical and you are one brave, strong woman. Even if our lives are very much different, we both have a strong urge for independence and full connection to nature. Although I have a very small garden I tend to for my family's needs and for beauty, I have always wanted my piece of land and you have inspired me to think outside of the box. I have shown photos of Mud home to my older daughter and she wants me to build this "beautiful hobbit home" for us!
If you ever come across Split, on Croatian Med coast, please contact me and we can have some real Turkish coffee in my garden:) Best wishes!

Reply
Atulya
15/8/2016 11:09:09 am

Gosh! This brought tears to my eyes. It's the details that are so important I think. Loving a single plant is just as valuable as an entire piece of land. Because there's love in it:) And yes Croatia is one of my 'to investigate' places. I was there back in the late eighties... Dubrovnik. A jewel. Would love to pop in for coffee and a chat:)

Reply
Jim Thomson
15/8/2016 03:37:00 am

Again, thank you Atulya!
Mud Blog is a story, a journey and an inspiration that begs us to look within and without and to discover our greatness.
I'm sure that I'm not the only person who eagerly awaits the next installment, and hopes, like a favorite book, that it will never end.
You are loved and appreciated!

Reply
Atulya
15/8/2016 11:10:57 am

Thank you! So much Jim. "Mud Blog is a story, a journey and an inspiration that begs us to look within and without and to discover our greatness." So so happy you see it like that. Because that's exactly how I feel about it too. Thank you once again.

Reply
Sandi Berumen
16/8/2016 02:39:24 am

First, of course, congratulations on the sale of your mud mountain home, Everything seems to be falling in place for you! I am so very happy all is working out and soon you will be off on new adventures -- your mud house class (again, wish I were in a position to join you) -- and then your new adventure at large looking for your next spot to land. Guided by the stars and your strong connection to the land. While leaving the old behind, and I certainly do not mean friends, but cherishing the memories, building onto the new, how very exciting it will be.

I will look forward to your new adventures, hearing about your class and joining you on your travels and experiences. You have become like an old and comfortable friend that one can not wait to be with again. May God Bless You, and Take Care and Stay Safe. You are in our hearts and prayers -- until we meet again.
Love to you Sandi

Reply
Atulya
19/8/2016 01:20:40 pm

Thank you Sandi! So much good feeling. "You have become like an old and comfortable friend that one can not wait to be with again." Likewise, really. :))

Reply
South Carolina Mountain Property link
2/10/2017 01:56:58 pm

These kind of mountain houses need maintenance more because these seems to be like more in contact with hailstones , storms , etc which can loosen their strength. Otherwise these mountain houses are worth seeing , their scenic beauty is so amazing..

Reply
Jamesfedrick link
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    Atulya K Bingham

    Back in 2011, I found myself camping alone on a remote Turkish hill. There was no power or water on the land. It was the start of an adventure that profoundly changed my beliefs about what is enjoyable, or possible...

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Disclaimer: All the content in The Mud Home website is provided for informational purposes only. The author undertakes no responsibility for any person or entity who chooses to use the information on this website. It is not intended to be a standard and should not substitute for the exercise of good engineering judgment by engineers. It is the user’s obligation to make sure that he/she uses the appropriate practices and consults the appropriate experts when building. It is the user's obligation to make sure they are following health and safety guidelines. The author is not responsible for any accidents, injuries or damages to persons or property incurred while using the information presented in this website.

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