I was circumcised in a completely traditional manner—Freehand.

It was a long, long time ago—in the early 1990s (I was circumcised quite late by Turkish standards). During the summer holidays, we traveled to Turkey (to the island of Imbros—Gökçeada). A few days later, my father, uncle, cousin, and several other male relatives took me to the *hamam*. There, I was washed; my pubic hair was shaved, and my underarm hair was removed as well (since I already had some); finally, my foreskin was retracted and thoroughly cleaned. Afterward, back at the house, a barber arrived—he must have been about 70 years old! I believe he gave me more than two injections in my penis. He was somewhat annoyed, as I was already older, and he scolded my father, asking why I hadn't been circumcised sooner. The procedure then unfolded as follows: I was held down by two men—one holding my arms, and the other—on whose lap I sat—holding my legs. And then: snip, snap—off came the foreskin. The man on whose lap I sat was my *Kirve* (godfather). A *Kirve* is a figure of great importance; the relationship establishes a bond between the two individuals, wherein the older man serves the circumcised boy—and later, the young man—as a mentor in all matters of life. The foreskin was then later buried by the Kirve beneath a tree.

However, I didn't have a circumcision celebration, as is customary—unfortunately.