Ederlezi

KAKAVA FESTIVAL — EDİRNE, TURKEY — 2009

Every year on the night of May 5, the Romani communities of Edirne light a bonfire the size of a building in Sarayiçi — the former Ottoman royal hunting grounds along the Tunca River. They call it Kakava, after the Romani word for cauldron. The rest of Turkey knows it as Hıdırellez. The Balkans call it Ederlezi — the same name Goran Bregović made famous in Kusturica’s Time of the Gypsies.

The celebration marks the arrival of spring and carries a lineage older than any of the religions that have claimed it. Hızır and İlyas — two prophetic figures from Islamic mysticism — are said to meet on earth this one night a year. In Christian tradition, the same date honors St. George. For the Roma, the roots reach further still: to Egypt, to the Copts, to a story of deliverance from a Pharaoh that predates recorded scripture. UNESCO inscribed Hıdırellez on its Intangible Cultural Heritage list in 2017.

In Edirne, the festival begins with a procession led by the Çeribaşı — the elected head of the local Romani community — and ends sometime after dawn, when the crowd walks to the Tunca to wash their faces and float candles downstream. Between those hours: people jump the fire three times for health and absolution, davul and zurna players roam the grass, and the 9/8 rhythm that defines Roman music pulls strangers into the circle whether they planned to dance or not.

Getting into the middle of it is harder than it looks. The celebrations are public, but the community is tight. The camera is noticed, the outsider is measured. I didn’t walk through taking photographs. I sat down, drank wine, talked, danced. The pictures came later, while no one was paying attention to me anymore.

Documentary photograph of the Kakava bonfire at the Hıdırellez spring festival in Sarayiçi, Edirne, Turkey, 2009 by Tarık Kaan Muslu
The Kakava fire rises in Sarayiçi. A child runs past. Seventy thousand people have come to watch it burn.
Documentary photograph of two young women by the bonfire at the Kakava Hıdırellez festival, Edirne, Turkey, 2009 by Tarık Kaan Muslu
Two girls by the dying fire. The celebration has hours left to run, but the embers are already being claimed by the next generation of dancers.
Documentary photograph of a zurna player performing at the Kakava Hıdırellez festival, Edirne, Turkey, 2009 by Tarık Kaan Muslu
A zurna player fills the evening air. The zurna and davul are inseparable in Romani music — one cannot exist without the other.
Documentary photograph of dancers at the Kakava Hıdırellez festival, Edirne, Turkey, 2009 by Tarık Kaan Muslu
The circle opens for anyone who knows how to move. Romani hospitality has one requirement: you must be willing to dance.
Documentary photograph of a dancer and davul drummer at the Kakava Hıdırellez festival, Edirne, Turkey, 2009 by Tarık Kaan Muslu
The 9/8 rhythm takes over. When the davul starts, no one asks permission to dance.
Documentary photograph of children on a fairground ride at the Kakava festival, Edirne, Turkey, 2009 by Tarık Kaan Muslu
Away from the fire, the festival has its own quieter carnival. Hand-cranked rides, cotton candy, and the kind of joy that doesn’t need amplification.