Hello everyone,

In my previous post, I talked in detail about the Yılancık healers (Yılancık Ocağı) in Anatolia, the origins of this tradition, and the Yılancık stones that serve as its primary material. However, Anatolian folk medicine is far from being a rigid or monolithic concept. It is a rich and highly adaptable tradition, shaped by regional dynamics and the passed-down knowledge of each healer's lineage.

While Yılancık stones form the backbone of this tradition, they are by no means the only method used in practice. In some healer families, auxiliary and supportive rituals are used alongside the stones. In other regions, healers bypass the stones altogether and adopt these alternative methods as their primary form of treatment.

The Yılancık Sliding and Incision Method

In traditional folk belief, it is believed that erysipelas occurs when bad spirits taking the form of snakes or negative energies touch a person. The redness and swelling on the body are viewed as these "snake tracks." In this method, the ritualistic steps and the physical dimension of the application unfold as follows:

Setting Intentions: As in many healing traditions across Anatolia, the process begins with a spiritual foundation. Before starting the procedure, the healer sets their intention by invoking the name of God and begins the ritual with a prayer for healing.

Patient Positioning: Following the intention, the patient is made to lie flat on the floor, either face up or face down depending on the area where the discomfort and redness are concentrated.

Symbolic Incision and Contact: The healer takes a blunted iron knife, or uses the dull back edge of a knife. With this knife, the patient's body is symbolically divided into seven equal sections from head to toe using transverse lines.

Reciting Verses and Healing Breath: The process is applied sequentially from head to toe. The healer taps the first designated section with the dull side of the knife, applying light to moderate pressure before pulling it back. Immediately after, the healer recites specific verses selected from the Quran, which are believed to sever the negative energy of creatures like snakes, and blows their healing breath onto the area.

This process, which includes the physical contact, the recitation of verses, and the healing breath, is repeated individually for each of the seven designated points from the head down to the feet. It is not completed with a single reading. The ritual continues step by step until the entire body, structured along these seven lines, is fully scanned.

The Logic Behind the Name: Why "Sliding"?

The word "sliding" in the name of this method directly summarizes the traditional logic and belief behind the ritual.

According to folk belief, the illness occurs when bad spirits or negative energies in the form of a snake literally sit down and settle inside the patient's body. The main purpose of the healer's ritualistic movements from head to toe using the knife is to disturb this negative energy embedded in the body and dislodge it.

Through the contact of the knife, the recited verses, and the healing breath, this adverse force that has settled in the body is forced to slide downward from head to toe, compelling it to leave the body.

Therefore, the act of "sliding" is not merely a physical touch. It is a symbolic exorcism ritual aimed at dragging the disease-causing energy downward and discharging it from the body.

Healing the Female Form: Treatment with Dried Snake Materials

In Anatolian Turkish folk belief, erysipelas is categorized based on its severity and progression. Cases that cause intense, throbbing pain, severe aches that keep the patient awake at night, and have a strong tendency to spread are identified in Anatolian Turkish folk culture as the "female form" (dişi yılancık).

According to beliefs in Anatolian Turkish folk medicine, ailments classified as "female" are considered much more virulent, aggressive, and prone to taking root in the body. Consequently, the treatment methods for these cases involve much more specific and elaborate rituals compared to standard practices. In such severe instances, materials directly identified with the symbolic source of the illness itself come into play.

Preparing the Ritual: Processing the Material and Recitation

Setting Intentions: The healer begins the process, as always, by setting their intention and invoking the name of God. Depending on the severity of the illness and their own preference, the healer prepares a snake head, a snake shed (skin), or a snake body that was previously collected from nature and dried at home.

Grinding into Powder: These snake parts, which have been dried in advance, are crushed and ground in a container until they turn into a fine powder.

Reciting Verses and Healing Breath: While the grinding process continues, the healer keeps reciting prayers. Although specific Quranic verses associated with snakes, reptiles, or harmful creatures are usually preferred, the healer may also recite different healing verses based on their own lineage and knowledge.

​Transferring the Breath: Throughout the process, the healer blows their breath directly onto the mixture being crushed into powder. In this way, it is believed that the spiritual power of the recited verses is transferred directly into the prepared powder.

Binding and Application to the Area: This blessed powder mixture is placed inside a clean cheesecloth or piece of fabric and wrapped up. It is then bound directly onto the area where the patient feels pain or where the redness is most intense.

Overnight Healing: The ritual is completed by advising the patient to sleep like this overnight and strictly instructing them not to unwrap the bandage until morning.

Ritual Completers: The Continuity of Healing

In Anatolian Turkish folk medicine, even though the areas of expertise or primary methods used by healers may vary, there are common "ritual completers" applied by almost every healer, regardless of their specialization.

The primary purpose of these practices is to preserve the spiritual influence of the main ritual and to continue the healing process in the patient's home. Basic foodstuffs easily found in every household, such as salt, sugar, or flour, are generally preferred as completers.

The healer recites healing verses from the Quran over these ingredients and blows their breath onto them, transforming them into a spiritual shield.

After returning home, the patient takes this blessed material with them to ensure their well-being and to sustain the recovery process. Depending on the lineage of the specific healer family, the patient either stores this material in a safe and prosperous corner of their home or consumes it by adding it to their daily food and drinks so that the healing directly permeates their body.

Special and Local Ritual Completer: Ash and Bread

Alongside the standard ritual completers commonly utilized in folk medicine, field research also reveals special healer traditions that favor highly specific and local materials.

In one striking example of this, a healer family uses ash and bread as their ritual completer. However, this choice is by no means coincidental. It relies on a deeply rooted family memory regarding the origins of the ritual materials used by their lineage.

According to the healer's account, when her great-grandmother gave birth to a baby girl, two snakes suddenly appeared. One of these snakes headed toward the ash of the hearth in the house, while the other climbed up the tree where the bread sack was hanging. This event led to ash and bread becoming sacred ritual objects in the family tradition, serving as mediums of healing.

The ash preferred in the application is obtained from clean firewood burned in the hearth of the healer's own home. Just as with the recitations performed over other foodstuffs, the healer transfers their prayers and healing breath to these materials.

Then, only a fingertip of this clean ash is taken, rubbed onto the bread, and given to the patient to eat for healing. In this way, the spiritual healing of the hearth is directly transferred to the patient, fully permeating their body.

In the continuation of the field research, the impact of changing living conditions and architecture on this tradition becomes clearly evident. With urbanization and the transition to apartment living, traditional wood burning hearths have given way to modern home environments, making it difficult to obtain ash.

This situation has led to the transformation of ritual materials over time. In this hearth-centered tradition, ash has been replaced by materials that are practical and easily accessible in modern life, such as salt, water, or bread.

These are, for now, the folk medicine rituals applied against erysipelas that I have had the opportunity to observe firsthand and have gathered through my research.

Thank you so much for reading this far. I wish everyone a wonderful day.🫶🏻

The traditional folk healers of Anatolia, known locally as "Ocak", are a vast and fascinating topic. I briefly touched upon them before, but this time I want to dive a bit deeper. How did these healing lineages specialize over time, what kind of rituals did they develop, and which specific ailments do they treat?

When you look into field research or Turkish academic literature, you discover an incredible variety of folk healers. The tricky part is that finding resources on this topic in English is almost impossible. So, for anyone interested in digging deeper, perhaps by translating them, I will leave a few Turkish academic links at the end of the post.

In this series, I will start with the most well known ones. First up are the Yılancık healers (Yılancık Ocağı), as this is a tradition present in my own family, giving me the chance to observe it firsthand and conduct my own field research.

So what are these Yılancık healers?

Let us first look at what the word "yılancık" means and the logic behind it in Turkish.

In Turkish, "yılancık" literally means "little snake". It comes from the word "yılan", which means "snake". In folk belief, it is the name given to the medical condition known as erysipelas. People call it this because the redness and swelling on the skin move across the body just like a snake. But from a traditional view, there is also a spiritual side to it. People believe this illness happens when bad spirits taking the form of snakes touch or harm a person.

As you can see, in Turkish, the name of the illness (yılancık), its source (yılan [snake]), and the term for these healers (yılancık ocağı) all stem from the exact same root. The folk healers who treat this illness using their own special methods and rituals are called Yılancık healers.

The Core Material of Yılancık Healers: Yılancık Stones

The most essential and well known material used by Yılancık healers against this illness is Yılancık stones.

So, what exactly are these Yılancık stones?

Although people call them stones, from a scientific perspective they are not geological rocks at all.

Biologically, they are a structure produced by gastropods, a group of sea snails. They are found mainly in sea snails living around the Indian and Pacific Oceans, as well as heavily around the Ganges River. To protect themselves from outside threats, these mollusks form a hard, calcified trapdoor to close the opening of their shells.

Over time, after the snails die naturally, their soft body parts decay and disappear, leaving behind only this hard, calcified structure. Because the natural patterns on it resemble the coils of a snake, people started calling it the Yılancık stone. This exact material is what gets used in the healing rituals of Anatolian folk medicine.

Treatment and Ritual Process in Yılancık Healing

People who come to Yılancık healers are usually those who develop unexplained redness or swelling on their body, or those believed to carry the negative energy brought by this illness. When a patient arrives, the treatment process is shaped around these symptoms.

As in many traditional healer traditions in Anatolia, the ritual in Yılancık healers mostly begins with a religious foundation. Before starting the treatment, the healer usually sets their intention by saying a prayer to start with God's name.

After setting the intention, the healer continues the process by reciting specific verses and chapters from the Quran as needed.

For example, because this condition is believed to be linked to snake-like energies, the healer often chooses verses that mention creatures like snakes or scorpions. These specific passages are recited to symbolically neutralize the harm or negative force associated with such creatures.

The healer does not simply recite the prayers and walk away. At the end of each verse or chapter, they blow their breath directly onto the exact area of the patient's body where the pain or redness is located.

In Anatolian folk medicine, this practice is known as the "healing breath." Through this physical action, it is believed that the spiritual power and healing energy of the recited prayer are transferred directly onto the affected spot.

While this reciting and breathing process continues, the Yılancık stones come into play. The healer places the stones directly onto the area where the patient feels discomfort. At this stage, how the stones rest on the skin and react is considered an important sign about the condition of the illness.

If the stones stick to the skin on their own when placed, it confirms that the illness or a negative energy is indeed present in the person. While the stones remain attached to the skin, prayers and healing breath continue. After a while, the stones naturally detach and fall off on their own. Once they fall, it is interpreted that the diseased energy has been fully absorbed by the stones, meaning the patient will be healed.

If the stones fail to stick to the skin and drop off immediately, it is concluded that there is no negative energy or illness in the patient for the stones to absorb.

Resting the Stones and Energy Cleansing After the Ritual

Once the ritual is completed, the used Yılancık stones are placed one by one into a special mixture typically consisting of flour, sugar, and salt.

From a traditional and ritualistic perspective, the main reason for placing the stones in this mixture is to prevent the heavy, negative energy pulled from the patient's body from remaining on the stones. By transferring the bad energy they absorbed into the flour, sugar, and salt mixture, the stones discharge and neutralize themselves, becoming cleansed and ready for the next use.

Marketing Myths Surrounding Yılancık Stones

It is necessary to address certain myths and commercial fabrications surrounding these stones.

Among the public, claims circulate that these stones are alive, that they have male and female forms, and even that they feed and reproduce inside the mixture of flour, sugar, and salt where they are kept. Furthermore, taking advantage of how the healing rituals are framed within Islamic beliefs, some sellers attempt to sell these stones at exorbitant prices by claiming they were brought specifically from Mecca, describing them as sacred and extremely rare in nature.

Yet these are nothing more than marketing claims made up later on purely for financial gain. As mentioned earlier, these structures are not sacred geological stones, but simply the calcareous trapdoors of sea snails. Biologically speaking, it is impossible for these creatures to live in a desert climate anyway.

They generally thrive in warm waters and inhabit marine environments like the Mediterranean, the Indian Ocean, and the Pacific Ocean. Sacralizing this material, which is ordinary biological waste in nature, or selling it under the guise of a living and breeding stone is a complete exploitation of people's emotions.

Variation in Practice and the Core Framework in Anatolian Healing Culture

An important point must be emphasized here. Healer families are often very hesitant to allow their rituals to be recorded or photographed. They believe that if the ritual is exposed to the outside world, the secret of the healing will be lost, the spiritual energy will scatter, and its power will be broken.

At the same time, we cannot claim that a Yılancık healer is limited to a single ritual or treats every situation with just one rigid method. Depending on the specific needs of their region, healers may develop various other practices and supportive techniques for different conditions.

However, when it comes specifically to treating erysipelas, the condition from which the healers take their name, the core framework of the ritual is exactly as I described. Although individual healers may make minor additions or variations, all practices targeting this disease ultimately revolve around this main structure.

In conclusion, this foundational ritual serves as the primary framework for understanding specialization within the tradition, seeing the main material used against the condition, and grasping the core logic developed to address it.

The Equivalent of Yılancık Stones in Different Cultures

Throughout history, the aesthetic appearance, round shape, and unique helical patterns of these biological structures have caught the attention not only in Anatolia but across various cultures around the world. What is particularly fascinating is that almost every culture has associated this structure either with an "eye" figure or a mysterious marine legend.

One of the most common legends told about these shiny, rounded stones washing ashore is that they belong to mermaids. In old maritime folklore and folk tales, these calcareous operculums are said to be coins used by mermaids or pieces of jewelry spilled onto the shore from their sunken treasures. This fairytale-like narrative has only enhanced the stone's sense of mystery in the human imagination.

Looking at their names and meanings in different geographies:

Eastern Cultures (Indian Ocean and Asia): In regions where Buddhism and Hinduism are widespread, these structures are named "Shiva's Eye" because they resemble the third eye of the deity Shiva. Believed to represent Shiva's infinite wisdom and transformative power, they are used for protection against negative energies and the evil eye.

Greek and Mediterranean Culture: In the Mediterranean basin and the Greek islands, these calcareous operculums are known as the Eye of Naxos, or, following the process of Christianization, as the Eye of Saint Lucy. In Greek mythology and Mediterranean maritime traditions, they are considered a protective amulet for the eyes. Sailors carry them on their person to guard against storms, the evil eye, and malicious glances.

Hawaii and the Pacific Islands: In the Pacific region, particularly in Hawaiian culture, this calcareous structure is referred to as the "Pacific Cat's Eye" due to its distinctive appearance. In Hawaiian traditions and across the Pacific islands, this cat's eye motif is believed to bring good luck, enhance intuition, and symbolize the abundance coming from the sea.

As can be seen, this structure, which is simply the protective trapdoor of a sea snail in nature, has taken a magnificent journey through humanity's shared imagination. It spans from the legend of mermaids' treasures to healing rituals in Anatolia, and from a sailor's amulet in Greece to a spiritual symbol of the eye in the East. Although the material remains the same, the meanings assigned to it by various cultures have transformed from one geography to another.

Thank you very much to everyone who has read this far.🫶🏻

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Hello everyone.

Today, I’d like to tell you about a deep rooted healing ritual that I’ve witnessed in my own region and is still practiced across Anatolia. Practices like this, where faith and traditional knowledge blend together, are still very much alive in Anatolia. In my opinion, it’s a fascinating tradition passed down through generations in search of both physical and spiritual healing.

First, let me briefly explain the purpose of this ritual: it’s performed when there’s a visible open wound on the body. In other words, rather than targeting internal pain or aches, it specifically aims to heal concrete, visible wounds.

In the first step of the ritual, the healer chooses a specific fruit or vegetable. In the cases I’ve witnessed, the most commonly used ingredient is the onion. This is mainly believed to be because of the onion's natural antiseptic and anti-inflammatory properties. In other words, compared to other ingredients, it has a much faster and more direct effect on open wounds.

During the practice, the healer cuts the onion in half without peeling its skin. Then, they begin reciting the healing verses from the Quran over the two halves. As they recite, they blow their breath onto the onion at the end of each verse or sentence.

This process, which varies depending on the number of verses recited or how often the healer blows, takes about 15 to 20 minutes. Once the recitation is finished, the healer usually applies their own saliva onto the onion.

Next, while continuing to recite the healing verses and blow their breath, the healer rubs the onion over the patient’s open wound. This is done by gently dabbing the onion onto the wound and pulling it back repeatedly. Until this process is complete, both the recitation of the healing verses and the blowing of breath onto the patient continue. Here, the blowing is done directly toward the patient and the wound itself. Once the onion completely dries out, the process comes to an end.

After the procedure is done, the onion is given to the patient. Especially in rural village settings, the patient places the onion in a spot on the south facing side of their house that gets the most sunlight throughout the day, often wedging it into a niche in the wall or between stones. According to the belief, as the onion dries up and shrinks under the sun, the patient’s wound starts to dry out, flake off, and heal at the exact same pace.

Special attention is paid on rainy days, because the onion must strictly avoid moisture and rain contact. If the onion gets damp or wet, it is believed that the wound will discharge more fluid and begin to gather pus. Therefore, the spot where the onion is placed must absolutely stay dry and receive direct sunlight.

Finally, I would like to add a small note. If you wish to try this ritual on yourself or someone else, you should know that traditional practices like this do not have rigid or fixed rules. They are not written in any book, nor will you find the exact same version in another source, because they are completely flexible. Each generation takes what they learned from the previous one and blends it with their own experiences. In fact, variations exist from city to city, and even from family to family.

Therefore, when creating your own practice, you can add candles, burn incense, or shape the atmosphere in any way you like. Similarly, you can choose a different fruit or vegetable instead of an onion. Consider what I have explained here merely as a scaffold or a foundational framework. The ingredients you include, the intentions you set, and the atmosphere you create are entirely up to your imagination and personal choice.

Thank you for reading this far. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to me in the comments or via direct message. See you next time! 🫶🏻

Hello everyone,

Today, I’m going to tell you about a very interesting tradition that is still practiced in my own village and continues to exist in various parts of Turkey. This practice is a deep rooted folk belief whose specific ritual form can vary completely from family to family, or according to healer traditions known as "ocak."

There is no single answer to what exactly this ritual is good for, because its purpose can vary completely from person to person and situation to situation. Of course, I am not sharing this with the mindset of "don't go to the hospital, try to heal with this method." However, people sometimes resort to this traditional way when seeking an extra bit of hope for their medical conditions, or when trying to cope with issues like depression, intense stress, anxiety, fear, and mental overwhelm.

As for the practice of the ritual, the person known as the "ocaklı" or healer usually holds a knife or dagger made of pure iron. The sick person, depending on the type or severity of the ailment they are experiencing, takes a specific position; they might sit across from the healer or lie completely flat on their back or face down on the ground.

Concerning the clothing, if there's a visible wound or a specifically aching limb, typically only the clothing on that area is removed. However, if the situation is not confined to a specific region, meaning if general depression, stress, or restlessness is involved, the clothing is not removed, as the application covers the entire body. I believe this situation is entirely shaped according to the nature of the ailment and personal preference.

Once the patient takes their position, the healer begins reciting prayers while holding the dagger or knife. As I mentioned before, coming from a Muslim culture, the healers witnessed in Anatolia usually recite verses from the Quran. However, I don't think it's right to fit these rituals entirely into a rigid religious frame.

This practice has no direct link to Islam. These are purely syncretic traditions arising from the blending of different beliefs. Therefore, there is absolutely no rule stating that verses from the Quran must be recited. If you belong to an Abrahamic religion, you can recite passages from your own holy book. If you do not follow any religion, you can speak your own intentions and phrases. If you feel the need to recite something, simply uttering a few sentences that you consider sacred according to your own belief is enough.

While reciting these prayers or intention statements, the breath must also be used correctly. After each recited sentence or prayer, the breath is expected to be blown over the patient.

While the words are being spoken, the iron dagger in hand is moved across the patient's body. If there is pain in only a specific limb, moving the knife over just that area might be enough. However, performing the practice across the entire body is always more recommended.

When it comes to how the knife should be used, the dagger must be held just as if cutting something. Applying light pressure to the patient's skin, the knife touches the skin as though cutting that area and is then pulled back. The entire body should be in contact with the knife in this manner throughout the ritual.

There is a point here that requires extreme caution. Sharp knives are generally not preferred in these rituals. Since the knife comes into direct contact with the body, one acts with utmost care to avoid causing any injuries.

You can visualize this process as if cutting and discarding the negative energy or illness from the patient with a dagger, as that is precisely the core metaphor underlying this traditional practice.

This process usually lasts about 15 to 20 minutes. The procedure of rhythmically moving the knife across the patient's entire body is completed within this timeframe, after which the negative energy in the patient is believed to have been cut away and cast off. As I mentioned earlier, this practice may not be carried out in the exact same way everywhere, and can even vary from family to family.

Another detail observed in the practice of healers is a precaution taken after the procedure ends, considering the possibility that the patient might experience ailments again or may not be able to visit the healer a second time. The healer recites a few prayers or intentions over a small bag of salt and blows upon it. Although sugar is sometimes preferred, the use of salt is far more common. Known among the public as "blessed salt", it is handed over to the patient. Absolutely no fee is requested during this process. The patient takes this salt home; whether they store it in a corner or use it in their meals, it is believed to bring healing. Thus, the ritual comes to a complete end.

If you are wondering about the atmosphere or setting, candles or similar decorative elements are not used in these types of practices. Naturally, you can choose to use them in your own application, but the core logic here is practicality. You can think of this less as a mysterious ceremony and more as an everyday chore that needs to be done. It would be quite difficult to prepare a special ritual space for every sick person in the village, so practicality is essential, and the procedures are usually carried out right in the kitchen of the home.

Additionally, there is no need for any preliminary preparation like cleansing the space or protecting against negative energies. That is because the healer's home and energy are already believed to be naturally clean.

If you have any questions, feel free to reach out via direct messages or in the comments. Thank you very much to everyone who read this far. 🫶🏻

Photos taken by me for demonstration purposes only. Using a completely dull knife to show the technique. No harm or cutting involved.

Hello everyone! Today, I want to tell you about a deeply rooted ritual that is known in almost every region of Türkiye, has preserved its existence across nearly the entire Turkic world for centuries, and still survives today as a cultural preference: Kırklama (also known as the Forty-Day Bath).

First of all, I would like to explain why this ritual is called 'kırklama' and the deep meaning behind it. It all begins with the number 40, which holds a very significant place in Turkic culture and mythology. The importance of this number traces back to pre-Islamic Central Asian Turkic beliefs and Shamanism. In ancient Turkic culture, the number 40 symbolized the completion of a cycle, purification, and transition into a new phase.

According to Shamanistic belief, the first 40 days after birth were a highly critical 'liminal' (threshold) period for both the mother and the baby. While rituals like newborn salting performed during the first week of birth served as the initial defensive shield at the beginning of this process, kırklama is a celebration of successfully overcoming this dangerous phase. The mother and baby, who have held onto life for 40 days, are purified one last time at the end of this period from any remaining negative energies and the heavy aura of postpartum vulnerability. In other words, kırklama is a sort of 'graduation' ritual, signaling the end of that uncanny period and marking the moment when the mother and baby can now safely integrate into social life and society.

Now, let’s look at how this mystical ritual is practiced. According to research and observations, there is no single standard for this ritual as performed in Türkiye; in fact, we can say there are dozens of different variations that change from region to region and even from family to family.

At the core of the ritual lies placing forty clean stones into the bath water. Although it might sound surprising at first, these stones are not chosen at random; they are thoroughly cleaned and dropped into the water so that the baby’s life may be as solid, strong, and long 'as a stone.' Following this shared foundation of stones, the other objects added to the water vary according to the families' wishes: some families drop gold or silver into the water so that the baby’s future will be bright, while others might add rice or beads symbolizing abundance and prosperity.

This diversity is not limited to practices within Türkiye either; we can observe much more distinct and unique forms of the ritual among other Turkic communities. For instance, among the Kyrgyz, while preparing the bath water, exactly forty tablespoons of water are poured into the vessel, counted one by one, or the baby's body is massaged with special oils to strengthen their bones. In short, just as every Turkic geography has its own unique traditions, every family within those regions has their very own distinct touch and interpretation that they bring to this kırklama ritual.

In today's modern Türkiye, this ritual is no longer practiced in such a strict or literal manner; instead, it is kept alive more as a symbolic family keepsake, a sweet cultural preference. Not every family chooses to carry on this heritage, yet the ritual still holds a very powerful and unshakeable place in our collective memory. In this post, to fully grasp the cultural depth and the philosophy behind the tradition, we will examine its most deeply rooted and traditional form that lingers in our memories.

In its traditional form, this ritual begins on the fortieth day after birth under the guidance of one of the family elders (usually the maternal grandmother, paternal grandmother, or an experienced woman called the 'kırklama ebesi' [the purification midwife]). The foundation of the ritual relies on bathing the mother and the baby with specially prepared 'kırk suyu' (water of the forty). However, every single action performed during the preparation and pouring of this water is, in fact, a reflection of thousands of years of Shamanist cosmology.

It all begins on the morning of the ritual with the gathering of forty stones from nature. When we look at academic folklore studies, we see that these stones are specifically selected from riverbeds or clean open fields. These forty stones dropped into the water originate from Animism which is the belief that all natural entities possess a spirit and the concept of the 'Sacred Stone' (Yada Taşı) in Shamanism. Since stone is the most durable element in nature, the primary purpose of casting them into the water is to transfer the stone's strength, resilience, and longevity to the baby. Before being placed in the water, the stones are washed one by one, and prayers or well wishes are whispered as each one is dropped into the vessel.

In addition to the stones, items such as gold, silver, coins, rings, rice, bulgur, and even sometimes green leaves or black cumin are thrown into the water. Of course, none of this is a coincidence. Gold and silver represent the Sun and the Moon, meaning the celestial brightness in Shamanic belief. These precious metals are left in the water so that the baby’s life will be bright, their future will be clean, and their fortune will be high. Grains like rice and bulgur are directly associated with the cult of 'Umay Ana' who is the goddess of fertility protecting children and pregnant women in ancient Turkic beliefs, and they are added to the water to bring abundance and prosperity to the home and the baby’s life. Green leaves symbolize the vitality of life and taking root, while black cumin symbolizes protection from the evil eye which means protection from evil spirits.

Following the preparation of the water, the bathing stage begins. Here, the most critical anthropological detail is that the water is poured exactly forty times. Usually, water is scooped exactly forty times with the help of a small bowl from that large vessel containing the forty stones and other objects.

What is truly fascinating in this process is the seamless merging of Shamanist origins with Islamic elements because each time the water fills the bowl, surahs like Al Ikhlas, Al Falaq, and An Nas, which are chapters and verses from the Quran, the holy book of Islam, are recited, and while the water is being poured down from the baby's head, nursery rhymes or traditional chants like 'May the water go down and their height grow up' or 'May their forty depart and their health arrive' are spoken among the people.

Behind these words lies a deep symbolism that mimics the movement of nature. When saying 'May the water go down and their height grow up,' the intention is that in contrast to the poured water flowing downward with gravity, the baby's height and lifespan will rise rapidly and healthily toward the sky. With the expression 'May their forty depart and their health arrive,' the aim is for all the heaviness of that forty day uncanny period to flow away with the water and leave its place to permanent well being. In Shamanism, water is not just a tool for physical cleanliness but a living, sacred purifier that washes away spiritual impurities, bad energies, and malevolent entities like 'Alkarısı' who is the demon known for haunting postpartum mothers.

After the baby is bathed, the mother is also washed with the remaining part of the same water or with a newly prepared water in a similar fashion. While the mother is being bathed, the aim is to wash away the heavy aura of postpartum vulnerability which means the gloom of that forty day uncanny transition period. After the bath is completed, the mother and the baby are made to step over the thresholds of the rooms or are taken on a tour of the rooms inside the house. In ancient Turkic belief, the threshold is the boundary gate between two worlds, meaning the inside and the outside, or the safe zone and the uncanny zone, and it is believed that spirits reside there. Crossing the threshold safely symbolizes that the dangerous postpartum period is now completely over and that the mother and the baby have stepped into the normal, healthy world.

In honor of this purification, food and sherbets are first offered to the guests at the baby's home, and then the most colorful outdoor stage of the ritual begins which is called 'Kırk Uçurma' or 'Kırk Gezmesi' as it is known in some regions. This stage symbolizes the mother and baby leaving the house where they were confined for forty days for the very first time and connecting with society for the first time. However, this is not an ordinary relative visit because the first house to be visited is chosen with great care. Usually, they visit the home of a family elder or a neighbor who is deeply loved by the family and trusted for their morality, peace, and luck. According to the belief, the baby will catch the energy and character of the owner of the first house they visit.

When the owner of the visited house welcomes these special guests, they present symbolic gifts to the baby that embody very ancient Turkic cultural codes. The most classic of these gifts are flour, eggs, salt, sugar, and coins. When we look at these objects anthropologically, we see that each one is a practice of well wishes and magical protection originating from Shamanism. The flour lightly rubbed onto the baby's head or eyebrows wishes for them to live a long and wise life until they become white haired and white bearded. The egg presented is the symbol of fertility, the beginning of life, and health, aiming for the baby to grow up robust and sturdy. Salt is for the baby's life to have flavor and abundance and to stay away from evil. Sugar is for being sweet spoken, and coins are a Shamanic transfer of 'kut' which means life energy and luck so that they will not suffer financial difficulties throughout their life.

When the mother and the baby return to their homes following these visits, they are now completely stripped of the shadows of that dangerous postpartum period which is known by its mythological name as that uncanny underworld. With the completion of the kırk uçurma ritual, the child is officially accepted as a healthy individual under the protection of both nature and the community, and takes their very first step into social life.

Thank you very much to everyone who has read this far and I am always open to answering any questions you might be curious about. Have a nice day. 🫶🏻

To help you fully grasp my previous posts and the mystical atmosphere I've been describing, I want to clarify a few fundamental concepts in Anatolian culture. In order to truly understand that small but fascinating world within Anatolian villages, it is essential to correctly place these two figures. Because, contrary to what popular culture suggests, a folk healer and a cleric (hodja) actually represent two completely different worlds.

What is a Healer?

Folk healing in Anatolia is a tradition carried out largely by women. Of course, there are male healers as well, but women are the primary carriers and the vast majority in this culture. A healer believes that their power comes not only from the Creator but also from a deep-rooted, genetic bond passed down through their lineage. This mystical power is transmitted from generation to generation through an ancient ritual known as "el verme" (the passing of the hand / spiritual inheritance).

In their treatments, healers usually resort to physical objects entirely unique to them - such as pouring molten lead (kurşun dökme), using salt, knives, or hot embers - as well as their own breath and spoken prayers. You would never see a folk healer writing complex amulets, casting spells, or preparing book-based talismans for you. Most of them have no academic religious training, and in older times, many didn’t even know how to read or write; yet, they keep a thousand-year-old oral memory and ritual culture alive.

What is a Hodja - Cleric?

A hodja, on the other hand, is a title given to people who possess book-based and academic knowledge on religious matters. These individuals may have gone through a formal religious education (such as a madrasa or school), or they may have learned Arabic through their own efforts to master the Qur'an and Islamic jurisprudence. When we look back at my grandmother's childhood in the 1950s, almost all the hodjas in Anatolian villages were men. This is also a reflection of gender roles at the time; while the hodja represented rules and authority in the mosque and public sphere, the female healers maintained a more hidden, secretive lineage within the privacy of their homes.

There is a very crucial detail here: There has always been a disagreement, even a hidden rivalry, between hodjas and healers. This is because the rituals performed by healers are rooted in pre-Islamic times, tracing back to Central Asian Shamanism. In other words, it is a structure where local, ancient beliefs are blended with religion. For instance, a healer might tell fortunes or rely heavily on their intuition; however, a hodja would never tell fortunes, as this is strictly forbidden in Islam. A hodja, in a general sense, never steps outside the boundaries of the Qur'an and Sharia law. They might write amulets composed of verses or protective talismans for you, but they keep their distance from the ancient, non-religious rituals of the healers - often opposing them by viewing them as "superstition" or "idolatry".

Those Who Are Both a Healer and a Hodja?

And then, there is a magnificent fusion of these two worlds, which is the archetype that interests me the most: an individual who both comes from a deep-rooted lineage of healers - inheriting that tradition - and has also pursued a deep curiosity toward their religion, gaining an academic education as a hodja. These people are the very figures who completely synthesize those ancient Shamanic rituals with verses from the Qur'an.

In one of my previous posts, I used the description "wise man" because I thought foreign readers wouldn't understand the word "hodja." Well, the old man and his son I mentioned in that post were living examples of this exact synthesis.

So, how do we know that they were both hodjas and healers?

This is where the famous Anatolian tradition of "el verme" (the passing of the hand) comes into play. To make it clearer, let me give you an example: Imagine your mother is a teacher. When you grow up, instead of choosing another profession, you follow in her footsteps and choose to become a teacher as well. This is because you grew up inside that culture, and you see it as a family heritage, a sacred duty that must be carried on. This is exactly the logic behind "el verme" in folk healing. The son in that story had also taken his father's "hand," inheriting the healing tradition. However, while doing this, he also improved himself by learning the academic side of Islam and Arabic, continuing his path as a hodja.

The most concrete proof showing that these two men were both hodjas and şifacılar was the amulet they wrote for my grandmother. Inside the amulet, there was a distinct drawing of a star. Normally, according to strict Islamic rules, drawing symbols or pictures inside a prayer or protective text is absolutely forbidden. Furthermore, the fact that this wise man's son told my grandmother to perform certain rituals while looking up at the night sky and the stars along with the amulet is a practice entirely rooted in Central Asian Shamanism and ancient Turkic-Mongolian cosmology.

In other words, these unique figures can neither cast aside the ancient rituals passed down through their lineage, nor can they abandon the academic rules of Islam. By blending both beliefs, they bend and soften the rigid rules just to find a cure for people's troubles.

In my upcoming posts, to avoid any conceptual confusion while sharing my stories, I will use these terms exactly as they are. Meaning, if a person is a healer, I'll call them a healer; if they are a hodja, I'll call them a hodja; and if they are both, I will make sure to specify that.

Thank you so much for reading this far. If there are any other details you're curious about or confused by regarding Anatolian culture, rituals, or these concepts, please feel free to ask in the comments!

Have a nice day 🤍

Hello everyone,

Today I would like to talk about a unique traditional divination method from our folklore, used to pinpoint the location of a lost object or animal. This method essentially allows us, so to speak, to see where it is.

First, we start by choosing the lost object, animal or people in our minds. To give you a clearer picture, let's look at a real example that I personally witnessed. The last time my grandmother used this fortune-telling method was for her goat that went missing in the village. To make things easier to explain, I will also use this goat example throughout my post.

The most interesting part of this ritual is that it does not require any specific, mystical, or hard-to-find materials. In fact, you can turn whatever you have on hand into a divination tool. Small stones, beads, or even snacks from the kitchen work perfectly fine. The last time we practiced this method, out of pure practicality, we just used roasted chickpeas because that was what we had around. The core philosophy here is not about the material itself, but rather the meaning and intention that the practitioner projects onto it.

During the setup stage of the ritual, we first select four pairs, making a total of eight identical roasted chickpeas. It is very important that these eight chickpeas are the almost same size, shape, and color. Then, we add two more chickpeas to this main group, which are different in color from each other and from the main group. This brings our total to ten chickpeas.

To help you visualize this more easily, let's look at an example with colors. Suppose our main group of eight identical chickpeas is yellow. One of the other two distinct chickpeas we add will be white, and the other will be brown. If you choose to use stones or beads instead of chickpeas, the logic remains exactly the same: you will need to create a set consisting of eight yellow stones, one white stone, and one brown stone.

The eight identical yellow chickpeas transform into dynamic symbols that constantly change based on the layout of the reading and our specific intention. For instance, depending on our focus, these eight chickpeas can represent mountains, rocks, or forests that need to be crossed; alternatively, they can symbolize a crowd of people, another herd of animals, or any other obstacles that might appear along the way.

The real key point, however, lies in the other two different-colored chickpeas. We can call these two the main characters of the reading. Going back to our goat example, the white chickpea represents the person searching for the lost object - meaning us or the owner of the animal. The brown chickpea represents the lost thing we want to find, which in our scenario is the missing goat.

Once we gather all the materials in our palm, we move on to the verbal phase, which is the chant. At this point, we lightly shake the ten chickpeas in our hand and begin to murmur the traditional words. The best part of this is that the chant does not have a single, fixed form. These words can vary completely across different cultures, different healers, or even each individual who does the reading. In fact, in my opinion, you can even adapt the chant yourself based on the specific object or animal you are searching for at that moment. This is because the process depends entirely on the practitioner, shaped by your intention and your focus at that specific time.

To help you visualize this better and fully understand the method, I will give you an example using the exact chant spoken by my grandmother. However, I should point out from the start that translating the rhymes and hidden meanings of such local chants into another language is quite a challenging process. They contain very specific expressions unique to that region and local dialect, so it can be a bit difficult to understand directly for non-native Turkish speakers, as well as anyone who is not a local of that area. To overcome this challenge and share my work effectively, I adapted the chant slightly for foreign readers without changing its original meaning, trying to bring it into a form that captures the same rhythm and mystical atmosphere in English.

Of course, just before starting the chant, we keep our final intention in mind while shaking the chickpeas in our palm. We focus and intend one last time for the white chickpea to be the searcher and the brown chickpea to be the missing goat, and then we begin to say the words.

-Eûzü billâhi mineşşeytânirracîm bismillâhirrahmânirrahîm.

-Either let it come and wait, or sit and drive its way.

-Sultan Solomon sealed the mountains and the rocks today.

-May this be the fortune of the Arabian maid,

-May the hand of Mother Fatima be our aid.

-If this goat shall be found, let them meet and align,

-If this goat shall be lost, let their paths untwine.

-This hand is not mine, it is Mother Fatima’s hand,

-This hand is not mine, it is Sultan Solomon’s command.

-Speak the truth, my little fortune, speak it clear and true,

-Lâ havle velâ kuvvete illâ billâhil aliyyil azîm.

Now, I will explain what each line means one by one.

+Eûzü billâhi mineşşeytânirracîm bismillâhirrahmânirrahîm

(This is the most fundamental sacred phrase and the opening seal of the Islamic faith. In Anatolian folk practices, it serves as a spiritual shield of protection before initiating any ritual or mystical practice. Incorporating this sacred opening phrase and declaration of faith at the very beginning of the reading serves a dual purpose. It legitimizes this divination practice, which technically spills outside the boundaries of official religious rules, in the mind of the practitioner while also acting as a safeguard against negative energies.)

+Either let it come and wait, or sit and drive its way.

(This line is a very powerful wish for the survival and well-being of the lost animal. The main purpose here is to ensure that the goat either stays in a safe place and waits for its owner, or safely navigates its own path through the mountains and forests without falling prey to the dangers of the wilderness. It acts as the first verbal seal directly aiming to protect the animal's life.)

+Sultan Solomon sealed the mountains and the rocks today.

(This line directly summons the spiritual authority and protective power of Prophet Solomon, who is believed in Abrahamic religions and folk beliefs to rule over all of nature, the winds, and animals. In Anatolian folk culture, the Seal of Solomon is frequently used to lock away dangers. The main purpose here is either to spiritually lock the wild dangers of nature, such as the mouths of wolves, to protect the goat, or to fix the mountains and rocks with an invisible seal to prevent the animal from wandering further away and getting lost.)

+May this be the fortune of the Arabian maid,

(In Anatolian folklore and oral tradition, the "Arab Girl" is a powerful archetype symbolizing mystical, unerring, and highly accurate prophetic knowledge passed down from ancient desert cultures and deep esoteric teachings. The main purpose here is to channel the power, accuracy, and wisdom of that ancient prophetic tradition into this search ritual being performed in the village. The knowledge of this symbolic figure is invoked, acting as a spiritual passing of the torch to reinforce the accuracy and mystical validity of the ritual.)

+May the hand of Mother Fatima be our aid.

(This line is a magnificent, living synthesis of Islamic faith and Central Asian Turkic Shamanism within folk beliefs. While the practitioner summons the sacred hand of Fatimah, the daughter of Prophet Muhammad, for healing and guidance, she is actually, and perhaps unconsciously, keeping alive the ancient Turkic mythological tradition and cult of Umay Ana, the goddess of fertility, birth, and protection.

The core intention here is for the woman performing the ritual to step away from her own ego and individual identity. By proclaiming, "This is not my hand, it is the hand of Mother Fatimah, of Umay Ana," the practitioner directly activates the collective memory and that ancient, spiritual chain of protection passed down to her from all the female healers and wise women in her lineage.)

+If this goat shall be found, let them meet and align, If this goat shall be lost, let their paths untwine.

(This line is the actual turning point where the intention of the ritual is physically imprinted onto the chickpeas as a command and frequency. These words are spoken directly to the objects being shaken inside the palm. The main purpose here is to program the chickpeas as messengers of destiny. If the chickpeas move closer together or align when scattered on the ground, it means the paths of the searcher and the goat will cross. If they move completely away from each other and obstacles come between them, it means their paths will separate.)

+Speak the truth, my little fortune, speak it clear and true.

(This line demands that the objects, which are about to be scattered onto the table, clearly reveal the hidden truth and the knowledge of the unseen. The main purpose here is to unveil this hidden insight without leaving any room for doubt, gray areas, or uncertainty.)

+Lâ havle velâ kuvvete illâ billâhil aliyyil azîm.

(This is the ultimate closing and spiritual seal made with one of the most fundamental prayers of submission in the Islamic faith. By accepting human helplessness, it declares that the ultimate power, might, ability to know the unseen, and absolute knowledge in the universe belong solely to the God.

The main purpose here is to anchor the ritual entirely within an Islamic philosophical foundation. No matter what the outcome of the divination is, whether the lost animal will be found or not, it allows the ritual to end with complete surrender and inner peace by leaving the ultimate result entirely to the divine will, providence, and the flow of destiny.)

This is the transitional phase where the spoken words transform into physical action. After reciting the riddle, the practitioner gently breathes onto the chickpeas inside their palm. Then, shaking the objects one last time, they slowly release them from a certain height onto a flat surface, usually a traditional floor cloth or a table.

The positions, distances, and geometric alignment of the objects on the ground are accepted as a living map showing the fate of the sought-after object or animal.

If the majority of the other eight yellow chickpeas are clustered between the two main characters, which are designated as the Seeker and the Sought, this indicates tangible real-life obstacles that will get in the way. These obstacles are interpreted as geographical barriers, such as difficult mountains or rivers to cross, communities of people, or another herd of animals blocking the path.

If the two objects fall very far apart on the surface, but the line between them remains completely empty and clear, the path is considered open. This is interpreted as a sign that the seeker and the sought-after will eventually reunite, but that it will take time and will not happen in the short term.

The most promising scenario on the field is when the chickpeas representing the seeker and the sought-after land stuck together, adjacent, or touching one another. This alignment is the clearest sign that the search will yield an absolutely positive result, effortlessly and in a very short amount of time.

For the ritual to be fully completed and the verdict to be finalized, the entire process must be repeated a total of three times consecutively. In folk beliefs and prophetic archetypes, the psychological and methodological rationale behind this trilogy is explained as follows:

First Cast (Chance / Coincidence): The first attempt is the initial reflection of the intention onto the field, but it has not yet moved beyond the realm of coincidence.

Second Cast (Confirmation / Resolving Doubt): This is the testing stage for the result of the first cast; it aims to clarify any ambiguities and doubts found in the first divination.

Third Cast (The Definitive Prophecy / The Seal): This is the sealing stage that anchors the energy of the first two casts, eliminates randomness, and delivers the final verdict. Once the trilogy is completed, the prophecy is considered absolute and finalized.

Cultural Synthesis and The Ironic Paradox

One of the most striking scientific aspects of this ritual is the deep theological paradox it contains. In the Islamic faith and Islamic jurisprudence, fortune-telling, making prophecies, or attempting to glean knowledge of the unseen through objects is strictly forbidden.

However, in this village ritual we are examining, a complete practice of "divination and prophecy" is performed accompanied by Islamic prayers, sentences, and sacred seals. This situation serves as an excellent example demonstrating how institutional religion and deeply rooted folk beliefs come together to form a hybrid structure - namely, syncretism.

Central Asian Origins: Kumalak

This method we continue in Anatolia using chickpeas is the exact continuation of the "Kumalak" tradition. It is directly inherited from Central Asian Shamanism and is still actively practiced today in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and the Altai regions.

What is Kumalak?

In ancient Turkic cultures, shamans or specialized "kumalakçı" would scatter forty-one small stones, sheep droppings, or broad beans onto the ground. They found lost items and made predictions about the future based on the layout, distances, and proximity of these objects to one another.

The Transformation in Anatolia

The stones or broad beans used in Central Asia were replaced by chickpeas, stones, bones etc. in the Anatolian geography. With the adoption of Islam, the shaman's practice of asking for help from nature forces and earth-water spirits was handed over to the hand of Mother Fatimah, the seals of Prophet Solomon, and Islamic prayers.

The practice of divination, which is strictly forbidden by institutional religion, was Islamized and legitimized through prayers thanks to the deep roots of ancient Turkic culture. By doing so, it slipped through the corridors of strict religious rules and managed to survive to this day as a form of folk healing and a ritual of social solidarity.

Thank you so much 🤍

Hi everyone; first of all, I’m incredibly grateful for all your support, your amazing engagement with my posts, and those deeply personal comments where you’ve shared pieces of your own lives.

Today, I’m not here to introduce you to yet another Anatolian tradition or walk you through a typical folk healer ritual. If you remember, I previously shared a pretty deep and personal story about my grandmother. For those who haven’t come across that post yet, or maybe just forgot the details since it's been a while, I highly recommend checking out that first post so you don't miss the core context of this narrative.

A few days ago, I went to visit my grandmother. I asked her to tell me the entire story from her own perspective, down to the very last detail regarding her background in folk healing and that amulet hidden away in the attic.

Guys, my grandmother is 90 years old this year, and I need to capture every single crumb of memory left in her head. She told me some truly incredible stories about her own childhood. However, the massive connections and details linking these memories to the amulet are so extensive that they could easily be the subject of a completely separate post.

So, we are going to skip the events of her childhood for now and focus directly on when my grandmother was 17 years old. When she was 17, she was riding a donkey to the field when the animal suddenly threw her off, breaking her arm in two places. A few hours after this accident, a severe, throbbing pain developed in her eye. She describes it as an ache that started from her right big toe and stretched all the way to the back of her right eye, making her eye feel "as stiff as wood".

She immediately explained the situation to her mother, who took her to a wise man living in a neighboring village. This man both belonged to a traditional healer lineage (Ocak) and possessed deep scholarly Islamic knowledge. After listening to my grandmother, the wise man opened his books to recite some prayers. As far as my grandmother remembers, he said something along the lines of: "Curse those scoundrels, the moment the child hit the ground, a 'boz yılancık' caught her right through her eye in the middle of the road."

**NOTE**: Yılancık (literally meaning "little snake" in Turkish) is the colloquial folkloric term for the skin infection known as erysipelas in modern medicine. According to ancient Anatolian beliefs, this disease was thought to be caused by malevolent entities taking the form of an invisible snake. The word "boz" used here is an archaic color description representing a pale, earthy, grayish-brown soil tone.

The wise man recited the prayers and sent my grandmother home. That same night, she had a vivid dream. In her dream, there was a very long paper strip submerged inside a water trench. She took that strip out of the water and measured it against her own height. As soon as she woke up, she told her mother they needed to go back to the wise man immediately, interpreting her dream as a spiritual sign that he was meant to write a "boy hamayili" for her.

**NOTE**: A "Boy hamayili" is a long, scroll-shaped protective amulet prepared in Anatolian folk culture to protect a person from severe illnesses, the evil eye, and malevolent entities. Crucially, it is written based on the exact physical height of the individual. The height of the person seeking healing is measured one-to-one with a string or a strip of paper, and the protective prayers are written on a paper scroll of that exact length, functioning as a highly personalized spiritual armor.

The deeper esoteric logic underlying this tradition is the concept of mirroring the person—essentially creating a spiritual double or an energetic twin of the individual. This long strip, sealed with the person's height, acts as a decoy so that any illness or negative spiritual attack (like the boz yılancık in this story) strikes this double instead of the actual body, rendering it harmless.

They went back to the wise man, and my grandmother told him about her dream. Upon listening, the wise man agreed that a boy hamayili must definitely be made. However, my grandmother's mother sheepishly mentioned that they did not have the money to afford it. The wise man did not put this low-income family in a difficult position at all; he simply replied: "Then bring me a bundle of firewood from your house, and we will be even."

**NOTE**: In Anatolian traditions, spiritual healing cannot be sold; commercializing it is strictly forbidden. However, preparing a boy hamayili required a serious material expense during that era. Just finding enough paper to form a long strip matching a human's height was incredibly difficult due to post-war paper shortages. Cutting the papers into strips, gluing them sequentially, and procuring special ink and brushes required actual cash. Therefore, by bartering his labor for firewood, the wise man wasn't profiting from his healing gift, but merely balancing the concrete material cost of procurement without burdening a poor family.

The wise man immediately took my grandmother's physical measurement and said he would prepare the scroll within three days. However, warning her that these three days were highly critical, he strictly told her to be extremely cautious because the entities could attack her eye even more violently before the protection was sealed. Furthermore, until the amulet was completed, he strictly forbade my grandmother from eating certain foods, including mutton, chicken, fish, garlic, and green onion stalks.

**NOTE**: The purpose of this dietary restriction was both clinical and spiritual. From a medical standpoint, he implemented a strict diet to cut off heavy proteins and sharp ingredients that trigger body heat, inflammation, and throbbing blood pressure, ensuring her severe erysipelas infection wouldn't worsen. From a spiritual standpoint, this traditional fasting aimed to keep the body light and the spiritual energy pure, keeping her defenses high during those vulnerable three days.

At the end of those challenging three days spent in severe pain, my grandmother finally received her boy hamayili. Tragically, about two weeks after delivering it, the wise man passed away. With the arrival of the amulet, her unbearable pain and terrifying hallucinations decreased slightly, but they never completely disappeared. She had to deal with residual nightmares and insidious pains for several years.

In desperation, she visited various healers and Islamic scholars over the years in search of a permanent cure. After wandering from door to door, she eventually learned that the son of the first wise man was continuing his father's hearth lineage (Ocak) and traditional sciences. Even though people around her tried to confuse her—claiming the son was never as knowledgeable or powerful as his legendary father—she ignored them, went to the son, and explained her ongoing plight. Upon listening, the son took back the old boy hamayili made by his father.

When I asked my grandmother why they took the old amulet back, she speculated that maybe they repurposed it for someone else. However, as a researcher, this doesn't make much sense to me, because these amulets are entirely personalized. They contain the individual's direct personal information, mother's name, birth details, and specific talismanic seals. Therefore, I highly suspect the real reason the scholar's son took it back was to properly neutralize the old, expired talisman before preparing a brand-new one tailored to her current condition.

The wise man's son prepared a brand-new boy hamayili for her. But he didn't just want her to carry it; he instructed her to add a very specific ritual to its maintenance. He told her to take the amulet outside at night once a year on a specific day, open its outer protective layers, and "make the amulet watch the stars."

Looking back today, my grandmother doesn't clearly remember which exact day that mysterious night was, and I don't know its calendar equivalent. She only performed it a few times throughout her life because, after receiving this new boy hamayili, her chronic illness and hallucinations finally vanished for good.

**NOTE**: This "starring" (yıldızlama) ritual deeply piqued my curiosity. In Anatolian folk beliefs, exposing an amulet to the stars is a ritual of cleansing and cosmic recharging. Over time, an amulet can become heavy or saturated with the negative energy it absorbs while protecting the patient. By opening it directly under the starlight on specific sacred nights when the gates of heaven are believed to open (like Hıdırellez or specific astrological thresholds), the talisman is purified of insidious energies and renewed with celestial power.

Furthermore, in ancient Turkic mythology, it is believed that every human on earth has a "star twin"—a spiritual double in the sky. In fact, common Turkish idioms like "having a low star" (being prone to negative energy) or "their star has fallen" (passing away) come directly from this cosmic belief. Therefore, making the amulet watch the stars aims to realign the energetic frequency and destiny between the person on earth and their celestial twin.

This brings us to the physical object itself, which I am holding in my hands today. My grandmother completely entrusted it to me, saying: "Take it, it is yours now. Keep it well, and do not disrespect it." While my family originally feared that opening it would bring the illness back, my grandmother herself gave me full permission, so my uncles and mother couldn't object.

I wanted to share a first look at the incredible physical structure and layers of this time capsule with you:

**The Outer Pouch**: Hand-sewn by my grandmother out of a colorful floral fabric so it could be worn around the neck.

**The Waterproof Layer:** A plastic bag wrapper used to protect the inner documents from sweat and moisture.

**The Heritage Wrapper:** A piece of aged linen fabric dating back decades.

**The Sealed Core:** A colorful early Republican-era oilcloth, completely sealed with beeswax to make it airtight.

**The Twin Scrolls:** Inside the oilcloth lie two completely separate paper scrolls.

The first scroll is a classic printed hamayil published by Deniz Bookstore (Deniz Kitabevi) in Istanbul, which my grandmother bought back then for 100 kuruş (1 Turkish Lira) to add extra protection alongside the manuscript.

Since this printed amulet in my possession has partially fallen apart, succumbing to time, I have also included a pristine photo of a completely original and intact copy that I found on an online auction site. This way, you can easily see what the printed form exactly looked like in its original, undamaged condition.

The second, older scroll is the original manuscript written by the wise man's son, preserved inside a truly old piece of leather. When I carefully unrolled it, I was left in absolute awe: the scholar's son had used an official state tobacco stub book (a tobacco declaration register paper) to write the boy hamayili. Due to the extreme paper scarcity of the era, he transformed a formal state document meant for tobacco producers—complete with printed Latin-alphabet terms like origin, product year, total price, and end of month current inventory—into a sacred canvas for healing.

I am currently at a limit with my own amateur deciphering because I do not know Ottoman Turkish or the specific numerology (Abjad/Ebced codes) used within. However, I can confirm that it contains my grandmother's name, her parents' names, and the signature/nickname of the wise man's son himself. It features beautiful, unique handwriting using three different ink colors (black, blue, and red) and a small hand-drawn star.

I am planning to entrust this historical and folkloric document to a university professor specializing in folk culture in my city for a proper academic examination. Once the writings and codes are fully deciphered scientifically, I will share a separate post breaking down its internal meaning in detail.

I’ve attached the photos showing the step-by-step unboxing of these layers.

**Please note:** Since the final documents contain deeply personal family information, names, and private talismanic records, I have meticulously pixelated/blurred out the specific text sections in the final photos to protect my family's privacy while still allowing you to appreciate the incredible textures of the historical paper, the ink work, and the vintage printed booklets.

Thank you so much if you have read this far! If there is anything you are curious about regarding the physical artifact or her narrative, feel free to ask in the comments! Have a wonderful day! 🫶🏻

Hi everyone; first of all, I’m incredibly grateful for all your support, your amazing engagement with my posts, and those deeply personal comments where you’ve shared pieces of your own lives.

Today, I’m not here to introduce you to yet another Anatolian tradition or walk you through a typical folk healer ritual. If you remember, I previously shared a pretty deep and personal story about my grandmother. For those who haven’t come across that post yet, or maybe just forgot the details since it's been a while, I highly recommend checking out that first post so you don't miss the core context of this narrative.

A few days ago, I went to visit my grandmother. I asked her to tell me the entire story from her own perspective, down to the very last detail regarding her background in folk healing and that amulet hidden away in the attic.

Guys, my grandmother is 90 years old this year, and I need to capture every single crumb of memory left in her head. She told me some truly incredible stories about her own childhood. However, the massive connections and details linking these memories to the amulet are so extensive that they could easily be the subject of a completely separate post.

So, we are going to skip the events of her childhood for now and focus directly on when my grandmother was 17 years old. When she was 17, she was riding a donkey to the field when the animal suddenly threw her off, breaking her arm in two places. A few hours after this accident, a severe, throbbing pain developed in her eye. She describes it as an ache that started from her right big toe and stretched all the way to the back of her right eye, making her eye feel "as stiff as wood".

She immediately explained the situation to her mother, who took her to a wise man living in a neighboring village. This man both belonged to a traditional healer lineage (Ocak) and possessed deep scholarly Islamic knowledge. After listening to my grandmother, the wise man opened his books to recite some prayers. As far as my grandmother remembers, he said something along the lines of: "Curse those scoundrels, the moment the child hit the ground, a 'boz yılancık' caught her right through her eye in the middle of the road."

NOTE: Yılancık (literally meaning "little snake" in Turkish) is the colloquial folkloric term for the skin infection known as erysipelas in modern medicine. According to ancient Anatolian beliefs, this disease was thought to be caused by malevolent entities taking the form of an invisible snake. The word "boz" used here is an archaic color description representing a pale, earthy, grayish-brown soil tone.

The wise man recited the prayers and sent my grandmother home. That same night, she had a vivid dream. In her dream, there was a very long paper strip submerged inside a water trench. She took that strip out of the water and measured it against her own height. As soon as she woke up, she told her mother they needed to go back to the wise man immediately, interpreting her dream as a spiritual sign that he was meant to write a "boy hamayili" for her.

NOTE: A "Boy hamayili" is a long, scroll-shaped protective amulet prepared in Anatolian folk culture to protect a person from severe illnesses, the evil eye, and malevolent entities. Crucially, it is written based on the exact physical height of the individual. The height of the person seeking healing is measured one-to-one with a string or a strip of paper, and the protective prayers are written on a paper scroll of that exact length, functioning as a highly personalized spiritual armor.

The deeper esoteric logic underlying this tradition is the concept of mirroring the person—essentially creating a spiritual double or an energetic twin of the individual. This long strip, sealed with the person's height, acts as a decoy so that any illness or negative spiritual attack (like the boz yılancık in this story) strikes this double instead of the actual body, rendering it harmless.

They went back to the wise man, and my grandmother told him about her dream. Upon listening, the wise man agreed that a boy hamayili must definitely be made. However, my grandmother's mother sheepishly mentioned that they did not have the money to afford it. The wise man did not put this low-income family in a difficult position at all; he simply replied: "Then bring me a bundle of firewood from your house, and we will be even."

NOTE: In Anatolian traditions, spiritual healing cannot be sold; commercializing it is strictly forbidden. However, preparing a boy hamayili required a serious material expense during that era. Just finding enough paper to form a long strip matching a human's height was incredibly difficult due to post-war paper shortages. Cutting the papers into strips, gluing them sequentially, and procuring special ink and brushes required actual cash. Therefore, by bartering his labor for firewood, the wise man wasn't profiting from his healing gift, but merely balancing the concrete material cost of procurement without burdening a poor family.

The wise man immediately took my grandmother's physical measurement and said he would prepare the scroll within three days. However, warning her that these three days were highly critical, he strictly told her to be extremely cautious because the entities could attack her eye even more violently before the protection was sealed. Furthermore, until the amulet was completed, he strictly forbade my grandmother from eating certain foods, including mutton, chicken, fish, garlic, and green onion stalks.

NOTE: The purpose of this dietary restriction was both clinical and spiritual. From a medical standpoint, he implemented a strict diet to cut off heavy proteins and sharp ingredients that trigger body heat, inflammation, and throbbing blood pressure, ensuring her severe erysipelas infection wouldn't worsen. From a spiritual standpoint, this traditional fasting aimed to keep the body light and the spiritual energy pure, keeping her defenses high during those vulnerable three days.

At the end of those challenging three days spent in severe pain, my grandmother finally received her boy hamayili. Tragically, about two weeks after delivering it, the wise man passed away. With the arrival of the amulet, her unbearable pain and terrifying hallucinations decreased slightly, but they never completely disappeared. She had to deal with residual nightmares and insidious pains for several years.

In desperation, she visited various healers and Islamic scholars over the years in search of a permanent cure. After wandering from door to door, she eventually learned that the son of the first wise man was continuing his father's hearth lineage (Ocak) and traditional sciences. Even though people around her tried to confuse her—claiming the son was never as knowledgeable or powerful as his legendary father—she ignored them, went to the son, and explained her ongoing plight. Upon listening, the son took back the old boy hamayili made by his father.

When I asked my grandmother why they took the old amulet back, she speculated that maybe they repurposed it for someone else. However, as a researcher, this doesn't make much sense to me, because these amulets are entirely personalized. They contain the individual's direct personal information, mother's name, birth details, and specific talismanic seals. Therefore, I highly suspect the real reason the scholar's son took it back was to properly neutralize the old, expired talisman before preparing a brand-new one tailored to her current condition.

The wise man's son prepared a brand-new boy hamayili for her. But he didn't just want her to carry it; he instructed her to add a very specific ritual to its maintenance. He told her to take the amulet outside at night once a year on a specific day, open its outer protective layers, and "make the amulet watch the stars."

Looking back today, my grandmother doesn't clearly remember which exact day that mysterious night was, and I don't know its calendar equivalent. She only performed it a few times throughout her life because, after receiving this new boy hamayili, her chronic illness and hallucinations finally vanished for good.

NOTE: This "starring" (yıldızlama) ritual deeply piqued my curiosity. In Anatolian folk beliefs, exposing an amulet to the stars is a ritual of cleansing and cosmic recharging. Over time, an amulet can become heavy or saturated with the negative energy it absorbs while protecting the patient. By opening it directly under the starlight on specific sacred nights when the gates of heaven are believed to open (like Hıdırellez or specific astrological thresholds), the talisman is purified of insidious energies and renewed with celestial power.

Furthermore, in ancient Turkic mythology, it is believed that every human on earth has a "star twin"—a spiritual double in the sky. In fact, common Turkish idioms like "having a low star" (being prone to negative energy) or "their star has fallen" (passing away) come directly from this cosmic belief. Therefore, making the amulet watch the stars aims to realign the energetic frequency and destiny between the person on earth and their celestial twin.

This brings us to the physical object itself, which I am holding in my hands today. My grandmother completely entrusted it to me, saying: "Take it, it is yours now. Keep it well, and do not disrespect it." While my family originally feared that opening it would bring the illness back, my grandmother herself gave me full permission, so my uncles and mother couldn't object.

I wanted to share a first look at the incredible physical structure and layers of this time capsule with you:

The Outer Pouch: Hand-sewn by my grandmother out of a colorful floral fabric so it could be worn around the neck.

The Waterproof Layer: A plastic bag wrapper used to protect the inner documents from sweat and moisture.

The Heritage Wrapper: A piece of aged linen fabric dating back decades.

The Sealed Core: A colorful early Republican-era oilcloth, completely sealed with beeswax to make it airtight.

The Twin Scrolls: Inside the oilcloth lie two completely separate paper scrolls.

The first scroll is a classic printed hamayil published by Deniz Bookstore (Deniz Kitabevi) in Istanbul, which my grandmother bought back then for 100 kuruş (1 Turkish Lira) to add extra protection alongside the manuscript.

Since this printed amulet in my possession has partially fallen apart, succumbing to time, I have also included a pristine photo of a completely original and intact copy that I found on an online auction site. This way, you can easily see what the printed form exactly looked like in its original, undamaged condition.

The second, older scroll is the original manuscript written by the wise man's son, preserved inside a truly old piece of leather. When I carefully unrolled it, I was left in absolute awe: the scholar's son had used an official state tobacco stub book (a tobacco declaration register paper) to write the boy hamayili. Due to the extreme paper scarcity of the era, he transformed a formal state document meant for tobacco producers—complete with printed Latin-alphabet terms like origin, product year, total price, and end of month current inventory—into a sacred canvas for healing.

I am currently at a limit with my own amateur deciphering because I do not know Ottoman Turkish or the specific numerology (Abjad/Ebced codes) used within. However, I can confirm that it contains my grandmother's name, her parents' names, and the signature/nickname of the wise man's son himself. It features beautiful, unique handwriting using three different ink colors (black, blue, and red) and a small hand-drawn star.

I am planning to entrust this historical and folkloric document to a university professor specializing in folk culture in my city for a proper academic examination. Once the writings and codes are fully deciphered scientifically, I will share a separate post breaking down its internal meaning in detail.

I’ve attached the photos showing the step-by-step unboxing of these layers.

Please note: Since the final documents contain deeply personal family information, names, and private talismanic records, I have meticulously pixelated/blurred out the specific text sections in the final photos to protect my family's privacy while still allowing you to appreciate the incredible textures of the historical paper, the ink work, and the vintage printed booklets.

Thank you so much if you have read this far! If there is anything you are curious about regarding the physical artifact or her narrative, feel free to ask in the comments! Have a wonderful day! 🫶🏻

⚠️ IMPORTANT MEDICAL DISCLAIMER

PLEASE DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME:

Modern medicine and science have proven that a newborn's skin is incredibly thin and absorbs sodium rapidly. The tradition of baby salting can lead to severe sodium poisoning which is clinically known as hypernatremia, as well as brain hemorrhages and unfortunately infant mortality. This post is strictly for cultural, mythological, and anthropological exploration, not a medical recommendation.

As the grandchild of a traditional "Ocak" which means an ancient lineage of folk healers still active in Anatolia, today I want to introduce one of the most mysterious and enduring practices of our lands as a continuation of my previous posts: Baby Salting.

To fully understand this ritual, we have to look back at ancient Turkic Shamanism. In the old belief system, a newborn baby is considered to be standing on a liminal threshold, a phase where they are half spirit and half human for the first week of their life. Because they still carry the scent of birth and the womb, they act as a beacon for negative energies and malevolent entities. The primary purpose of baby salting is to create a form of spiritual camouflage. The salt effectively masks the baby's biological scent, making the infant appear as dry, lifeless matter to passing entities so that they simply overlook the cradle.

How the Ritual is Performed:

Anthropological research shows that this ancient ritual is performed across Anatolia using two primary methods depending on the tradition of the healer lineage. Shifacis would choose either the dry method or the wet method based on their ancestral guidance. In the dry method, rock salt is ground into a fine powder, mixed with olive oil or dried medicinal herbs, and gently rubbed onto the newborn's entire body, focusing heavily on the joints and armpits. The baby is then loosely swaddled for a symbolic period before being washed clean.

In the wet method, which was generally performed within that critical first week after birth, the salt is dissolved directly into the newborn's very first ceremonial bathwater. I was one of those salted newborns myself during my first week of life, and the method my grandmother practiced in her own Hearth was exactly this. In the culture of the Hearth, this bathwater is never just ordinary water because the healer women transform the cauldron into a literal spiritual armor. The other elements dropped into the water are what give the ritual its true depth.

These objects are rooted in traditional sympathy magic and vary according to the gender of the newborn. For a baby girl, a silver earring or a silver coin is dropped into the water to wish for beauty, purity, and a bright face like the moon. For a baby boy, a gold ring is placed in the water, symbolizing strength and prosperity, so that his word may always carry the weight of gold. Regardless of gender, a piece of pure iron such as an old hearth nail or a knife is always added to the water. In Turkic folklore, iron possesses a sacred protective power, acting as a metaphysical shield to completely ward off Al Karısı and evil spirits from the vulnerable infant.

Ancient Incantations and the Synthesis of Beliefs:

While performing this procedure, the Hearth healers or midwives never remain silent, as the spoken aspect of the ritual is just as vital as the physical one. In the traditional Hearth culture of Anatolia, a midwife should not be confused with modern hospital staff or an outside healthcare professional. In these families, the midwife is usually the newborn's own maternal or paternal grandmother, meaning that a child is born directly into the hands of their own family elder. It is these wise grandmothers who deliver the baby and whisper this ancient incantation to seal the purpose of the ritual while the newborn is being washed with the salted water or rubbed with the salt:

"Be as white as salt, be as pure as earth.

May your flesh and bones be tight, may your scent be heavenly and bright.

May your nature be beautiful, may your lineage be bountiful.

May no evil eye strike, may no harsh word bite, may Al Karısı stay out of sight.

It is not my hand, it is the hand of Fatma Ana..."

The most critical part of this incantation is undoubtedly the final phrase: "It is not my hand, it is the hand of Fatma Ana." When we examine academic and anthropological studies, we see a magnificent synthesis of beliefs hidden behind this single sentence. Before Turks embraced Islam, the most powerful sacred figure protecting childbirth, mothers, and newborns was the goddess Umay Ana. Following the adoption of Islam, these shamanic roots did not vanish; instead, they transformed within folk beliefs and merged with Islamic culture. Umay Ana, the protective goddess of mythology, was synthesized over time with the figure of Prophet Muhammad's daughter, Hazrat Fatima, known locally as Fatma Ana.

When a woman from a healing Hearth says "It is not my hand, it is the hand of Fatma Ana" while performing this ritual, she actually means this: "I am not performing this healing through my own mortal, ordinary power. I am merely a vessel. I am surrendering my hand to the thousands of years old sacred feminine energy, to that great protective power, and to my ancestral lineage." Through this verbal seal, the ritual simultaneously keeps the Shamanic roots alive while gaining an Islamic sanctity, allowing it to be passed down from generation to generation.

Modern Corruption and the Boundaries of Tradition:

Today, the practice of baby salting has thankfully decreased dramatically across Anatolia due to modern medicine. However, those who still try to keep it alive today are usually not the traditional healers anymore. Instead, it has turned into a reckless show by uninformed people who completely misunderstand the tradition, blindly covering newborns in kilograms of salt.

If you have read this far, I truly thank you for your time and curiosity. 🫶🏻