Karpûz: The Amed Watermelon and the Tigris Gardens That Grow It

Dala Sarkis
May 31
6 min read

Karpûz: The Amed Watermelon and the Tigris Gardens That Grow It

Every September in Amed, the city does something it has been doing since 1960: it loads camels with watermelons and marches them down Ekinciler Street to Dağkapı Square, and the Diyarbakır Watermelon and Culture Festival begins. The festival — held in this Kurdish-majority city on the banks of the Tigris — celebrates the most famous product of the Amed summer: a watermelon so large, so sweet, and so specific to its place that it has a geographical indication certificate, an international reputation, and a name that means something in the produce markets of Europe and the Middle East. The Diyarbakır watermelon, known in Kurdish as karpûz, grows in the Hevsel Gardens — the UNESCO World Heritage–listed market gardens that lie in the curve of the Tigris River directly below the ancient black basalt walls of the old city. These gardens have been cultivated since the Neolithic period. Today, their muddy alluvial soil still produces the same watermelons: green and white on the outside, red as garnet inside, up to fifty kilograms in weight, and sweet, as one competition winner described it, “like sugar and lokum.” Turkey produces approximately twenty per cent of the world’s watermelons, and Diyarbakır is the centre of that production. The Amed watermelon is a Kurdish brand internationally — grown in the North of Kurdistan, exported across Turkey and beyond, celebrated with an annual festival that has been running for over sixty years. The specific character of the Diyarbakır watermelon — its exceptional size and sweetness — comes from the combination of the Tigris alluvial soil (rich in the mineral deposits carried down from the Kurdish mountains), the Amed summer heat (the same heat that dries the fefil salçası on the rooftop), and the long growing season in the gardens that stretch along the river below the city’s walls. It is a product of place as specific as the izot pepper or the Van cheese. And it has no equivalent anywhere else. This is the one-hundred-and-forty-eighth article in the series. After the winter stews and the preserved pastes and the clay-oven bread and the pit-roasted lamb, Dala’s final piece covers the thing Amed grows in summer — the fruit that feeds a city and makes it famous.

Key Takeaways

• The Amed (Diyarbakır) watermelon grows in the Hevsel Gardens beside the Tigris and reaches up to 50 kilograms

• A Kurdish brand internationally — celebrated at an annual festival in Amed since 1960, with GI certification

• Turkey produces 20% of the world’s watermelons; Diyarbakır province is the production centre

• The Hevsel Gardens — UNESCO World Heritage — have been cultivated since the Neolithic period under the city’s basalt walls

Quick Facts

Kurdish Name: Karpûz / karpûza Amedê (Amed’s watermelon); the festival name: Jînê Karpûzê (the watermelon bride)

Grown In: Hevsel Gardens along the Tigris River, Diyarbakır (Amed); UNESCO World Heritage site, cultivated since the Neolithic period

Weight: Standard varieties 10–20 kg; the famous large Tigris-bank variety up to 50 kg; ripens in September

Recognition: Geographical indication certificate; annual festival in Amed since 1960; Turkey’s most famous regional watermelon

The Hevsel Gardens and the Tigris Soil

The Hevsel Gardens lie in the narrow band of land between the base of Amed’s ancient basalt city walls and the Tigris River. These gardens have been cultivated without interruption for thousands of years — they are described by UNESCO as “a link between the city and the water, providing food for the city since the Neolithic period.” The same alluvial soil that the Tigris deposits in this bend of the river every year — rich with minerals carried down from the Kurdish mountain highlands — feeds the roots of the watermelons that grow to extraordinary size. The specific terroir is not replicable: the combination of Tigris alluvial soil, the reflected heat from the black basalt walls above (which absorb and radiate the Amed summer sun), the pigeon manure (koğa) historically used to fertilise the gardens, and the long, hot, dry Diyarbakır summer produces a watermelon that cannot be grown anywhere else to the same result. The famous large variety — grown only in the muddy flats directly beside the river bank, harvested in September when the rest of the watermelon crop has long been in the market — can reach fifty kilograms. One fruit. Fifty kilograms. Shared among whoever is at the table. The watermelon is cut open at the table, the knife runs through the red interior with a crack, and what comes out is a sweetness that watermelon growers across Turkey and beyond acknowledge they cannot match. “Like sugar and lokum,” said the winner of the 2021 Amed watermelon eating competition. “Its taste was very pleasant. It was like sugar and lokum.”

A Kurdish Brand: The Festival and the Fame

The Diyarbakır Watermelon and Culture Festival has been held every year since 1960. It begins with a procession: camels loaded with the enormous watermelons make their way down Ekinciler Street to Dağkapı Square, accompanied by Kurdish folk music and dance. The heaviest watermelons are weighed and their growers announced. An eating competition is held. The festival is both civic celebration and agricultural showcase — and it is specifically a celebration of a Kurdish product in a Kurdish city. Every year, some 27,000 dunams of land in the Amed province are allocated to watermelon cultivation. The harvest supplies not just the local market but cities across North Kurdistan, Turkey, and export markets. The Diyarbakır watermelon is a geographical indication–certified product, meaning that only watermelons grown in the designated area of the Diyarbakır province under specific conditions can be sold under its name. It is, as one Kurdish food publication described it, “a Kurdish brand internationally.” Turkey produces approximately twenty per cent of the world’s watermelons. The Diyarbakır province is the national centre of that production. The series has covered Amed’s meftûne, its büryan, its baking clay oven, its dark izot pepper, its red pepper paste, its green fire-roasted wheat. Now it covers the city’s summer gift: the fruit that comes in September from the Tigris gardens, fifty kilograms of summer sweetness, cracked open at the table, shared among whoever is present. Mîvanperwerî — the article argued that the Kurdish table exists to be shared. The Amed watermelon is fifty kilograms of evidence.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why is the Diyarbakır watermelon so famous?

The Diyarbakır (Amed) watermelon is famous for three things: exceptional size (up to 50 kg for the Tigris riverside variety), exceptional sweetness (from the mineral-rich alluvial Tigris soil and the intense summer heat), and the specific growing environment of the Hevsel Gardens — the UNESCO World Heritage–listed gardens along the Tigris River below the city’s ancient basalt walls. The combination of soil, heat, river, and history cannot be replicated elsewhere, giving the watermelon a geographical indication certificate and an internationally recognised identity as a Kurdish product.

What are the Hevsel Gardens?

The Hevsel Gardens are the historic market gardens of Amed (Diyarbakır), lying in the curve of the Tigris River below the city’s UNESCO World Heritage–listed basalt walls. Described by UNESCO as “a link between the city and the water, providing food for the city since the Neolithic period,” the gardens are part of the Diyarbakır Fortress and Hevsel Gardens World Heritage Site (inscribed 2015). They have been cultivated continuously for thousands of years, using the rich alluvial soil deposited by the Tigris and historically fertilised with koğa (pigeon manure). The watermelons of Amed grow here.

When is the Diyarbakır watermelon festival?

The Diyarbakır Watermelon and Culture Festival is held in September, coinciding with the September harvest of the famous large Tigris riverside variety. It has taken place annually since 1960 in Amed and is a major civic event of the Kurdish city: it opens with a camel procession carrying watermelons through the historic streets, includes Kurdish traditional dance and music, features a watermelon-eating competition, and announces the growers of the season’s heaviest fruit.

Conclusion

Karpûz is the one-hundred-and-forty-eighth article in the series, and Dala’s last. She has covered every season of the Bakur kitchen: the winter keledöş, the spring mangal, the summer meftûne and fefil salçası, the autumn pestil and somaq. Now, in September, she covers the last thing summer produces before the cold comes: the Amed watermelon, fifty kilograms of Tigris sweetness, cracked open under the basalt walls in the gardens that have been growing food since the Neolithic period. Diyarbakır is wheat and pepper and lentil and eggplant and pit-roasted lamb and stuffed rice dome and rooftop dried vegetables. And in September, it is this: a fruit so large it takes two people to carry, so sweet it tastes like sugar and lokum, loaded onto camels for the festival procession since 1960. One hundred and forty-eight articles in, the Amed kitchen is complete.