As soon as I got off the bus and saw the strange parade, I knew I was in the right place: A stray dog trotted down the street after three boys leading a small horse behind a pickup truck filled with musicians, one beating a large, flat drum nestled between his legs. In front of them all strode two lumbering camels frothing at the mouth, the bells lashed to their saddles clanking like particularly tuneless wind chimes.
People are believed to have been pitting camels against each other in wrestling matches since the days of nomadic caravans. Today, the tradition lives on in winter bouts along Turkey’s Aegean coast. The largest tournament of the year is held in Selçuk, near Ephesus, where organizers recently added a camel beauty contest to the day’s events to draw interest. The dusty field where I found myself one sunny Sunday in February is in a nondescript suburb of İzmir, the third-largest city in Turkey and its self-proclaimed most modern and cosmopolitan.
Camels waited patiently around the makeshift ring, back hooves splayed, soft shackles around their front legs tethering them to stakes pounded into the ground. Draped with colourful ribbons and blankets, spangled scarves, and banners proclaiming their names and hometowns, they seemed oblivious to the children and dogs running amongst them, the people coming up to touch their heads and pose for photos, the itinerant horn player blaring his zurna in their ears.
Rules of the game
From a raised platform alongside the ring, the voice of the cazgır (announcer) rang out with a prayer, or a wish – “Let our animals be strong” – before introducing the contestants. “Küçük Ahmet from Zeytindağ has entered the field…”
Camels wrestle by pushing against each others’ sides, straining for the leverage that could allow them to trip the other up or press their rival’s long neck to the ground. Hefty animals, they circle surprisingly quickly, their hoof-work as fleet as any boxer’s. Two teams of neon-vested urgancı (ropemen) squat in a line on either side of the beasts, ready to sprint into action to pull the camels apart – a tug-of-war eagerly joined by spectators who leap the flimsy fences around the ring to pitch in.
A match lasts 10 minutes, and is won when one animal falls, screams, or runs away. The latter outcome was by far the most popular among the assembled crowd, which roared its approval before scattering as nearly a ton of ungulate bulk hurdled toward the rickety metal fencing, sending people pushing and squeezing out of the way, only to return to their positions a moment later.
As the animals grappled nearby, a little girl with a puffy coat matching her cotton candy stepped away slightly. “Are you scared?” I asked. Stifling a smile, she threw her head back with an emphatic “Tsk!”
Trying to separate two camels. Photo: Jennifer Hattam
The sideline spectacle
Unlike another traditional Turkish sport, oil wrestling, where the mere sight of four female spectators was enough to attract TV cameras, camel wrestling is a family affair. Rotund middle-aged ladies in headscarves and flowery pants spread out their picnic blankets on the patchy grass as young women in chic boots picked their way through the mud. Older men in caps and suit coats smoked and ate sunflower seeds, while younger ones hung eagerly on the fence, lifting children up to kiss their fathers on the field with their candy-apple-sticky lips. Some spectators sat on flattened cardboard boxes or newspaper-covered rocks; others with ringside tables tucked into meals served on ceramic plates by a nimble waiter.
Musicians wended their way through the crowd, their songs rising above the din, trying to entice some of the men drinking rakı around small white plastic tables to get up and dance. One stretched his arms out wide and did a few steps in front of his camel, hair thick with the beast’s spit, before nuzzling the animal’s head.
Smoke rose from mangals and nargile set up on the sidelines, where one man cooked chicken in a pan of oil over a gas canister, a worn piece of plastic tied on as a shield. Others grilled up slices of camel sausage, pressing small loaves of bread into the frying grease before filling them with meat and wrapping them in newspaper.
As the day lengthened, trainers began removing the unsuccessful camels from the ring. Some loaded their animals into large trucks while others led them home on foot, down through the winding streets lined with graceless concrete-block buildings, without even a carpet prize tied to their saddle to show for the day’s exertions.
A jaunt to İzmir
The last two camel-wrestling tournaments of the season are in İzmir’s Haydarlı district (March 6) and the nearby city of Manisa’s Gökkaya district (March 20). With regular flights and overnight bus service from Istanbul to İzmir, it’s easy to take a quick trip to catch this unique event.
Stay Although you’ll definitely get the more “local” experience by staying in the heart of it all in Selçuk, for more variety and evening entertainment, İzmir is your best bet. The hotels in İzmir aren’t cheap, but the attractive Park Hotel İzmir (150 Turkish Liras/75 Euros per night) and the homey Güzel İzmir Oteli (100 Turkish Liras/50 Euros) both offer good value. Park Hotel İzmir: 1366 Sokak 6, Çankaya (0232) 425 33 33. Güzel İzmir Oteli: 1368 Sokak 8, Basmane (0232) 483 50 69.
Eat Kırçiçeği is a firm favourite for kebab and pide in the restaurant-rich Alsancak district. 1443 Sokak 83, Alsancak (0232) 464 30 90.
Explore Hop on a minibus for a daytrip to the less-visited ruins of Sardis, the ancient capital of the Lydian Kingdom, or the beach towns of the Çeşme peninsula, blissfully sleepy this time of year.
Camel wrestling fun facts
* Turkey has around 500 wrestling camels, all male and of the special tülü breed. Most come from Iran, Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan.
* Wrestling season lasts from December to March, the animals’ mating period.
* Camels perform better in cold weather.
* The carpets, saddlebags and other felt and cloth items worn by the camels are traditional crafts of the nomadic Yörük people.
* The tournament in Selçuk was held in the Ephesus theatre until the late 1990s, when it was moved due to concerns about damaging the ancient site.
* A wrestling camel can cost as much as 160,000 Turkish Liras (approximately 80,000 Euros) and eat up to 5,000 Turkish Liras’ (approximately 2,500 Euros’) worth of food a year.