Asya Tekin/Nişmiye Güler/JINHA

MUŞ - Among the sounds of gunfire, JINHA headed to the town of Varto, engulfed in clashes, to speak with the women residents of the city.

In the town of Varto (Gimgim in Kurdish), in Muş province of Turkey (in Northern Kurdistan), local self-defense forces took control of the city and fought with police non-stop for 58 hours.

Yesterday, guerrillas from the HPG and YJA STAR (both affiliated with the Kurdistan Workers' Party) announced that their actions in the town were revenge for the killing and torture of woman YJA fighter Kevser Eltürk (Ekin Wan). Guerrillas are also reported to have called the police station and informed police: "you have no security here; don't go onto the streets."The people of the town talk about these events with just as much pride as humor.

We arrived in Varto on a Saturday night under whizzing bullets. After we shot down the creek side road in the area called Çemesus, at the entrance to the town, we reached the town center, under control of the self-defense forces. We were approaching the sounds of fighting when a woman and a young man emergedto help carry our camera and computer. After scanning the road ahead to see whether it was held by police special operations teams or by self-defense forces, the youth told us to go ahead.

We advanced with our heads bowed, trying to hide our camera. Locals who saw us offered to open their doors to us to shelter from the clashes. The woman who helped us with her camera brought us to her home.

As evening fell, we noticed that the people were still out on the streets. All were trying, in hushed voices, to get information. "My neighbor's son is gone; he joined the self-defense forces," reported one man. Another woman said, "The special operations [police team] came and shot up the neighborhood from afar."

The locals know where the trenches are, as well as where there are mines and bombs. When we asked if they were scared, they simply replied, "We lived like this for years. At this point, we're defending ourselves." Wenoticed that everyone spoke of themselves as simply a part of what was happening now.

We reached the edge of the town. The further we walked, the more normal life seemed; we were moving away from the center of the clashes, in the shopping area. All night, we heard the sounds of explosions and gunfire and wondered what exactly was happening and to who. The neighbors and neighborhood residents continued to updated us on developments in every neighborhood until we found asleep to the sounds of gunfire.

We woke at 5:00 a.m. to the family's young daughter telling us, "the curfew is done; there's been an agreement." As soon as we woke, we headed into the streets. The people began heading towards the site of the most intense clashes, among empty barrels and trenches dug in the streets. Everyone's question: "has anyone died?"

That was when we learned that two members of the self-defense forces, known as Demhat and Andok Sozdar, died in the clashes. The local people took us to the site where they were killed. "We're guilty for the deaths of these young people," they told us. "The people of Varto need to call [the state] to account for this."

From what we understood, nearly everyone here knew the two who died. Women flocked in large groups to the site where the two youths were assassinated, where pieces of flesh and brain lay scattered on the ground. Eyewitnesses reported that one of the two died in a clash; the other was found wounded and assassinated.

We headed to the hospital to ask if any dead bodies had arrived, but were told that the bodies had been taken directly to the police station. Next, we headed to the city center, where clashes had been most intense. Nearly all the businesses were destroyed.When we asked the city residents what happened, they replied, "Our children fought with the police."

Everyone here talks about "our children." When we asked shopkeepers if they had lost much in the attacks, the reply was, "It's fine; our children were fighting."

(gc/fk/cm)