A second introduction

So after two months we were together in Ankara, Anna has gone home. I'm staying in Turkey until January, two weeks here in İstanbul then returning to Ankara for the fall term at METU (Middle East Technical University). To continue small glimpses of Turkey I'll be posting to this blog. My own observations and questions, perhaps some Turkish graffiti, urban conversations and mediterranean flavours.
And through what lens? Anna has International Relations, inquisitative journalism, and joyful humour specialities.....I've got philosophy and environmental studies, as well as a deep fear of (or faith in?) cultural relativism.

I'll write soon about the water of Istanbul. It's in the air, in the seas, in fish sellers' fountains, in an infinite number of plastic bottles that--once emptied--are thrown to cobblestone streets. Here the balance between savings and waste is an irony that springs up every day, and for me it's most obviously witnessed with water.

~~~alice

Home, and Good-bye

Now, after two months in Turkey, I am back home in the United States. I'm listening to Turkish music now, and missing it all: the heat, the food, the constant feeling of being slightly lost and confused... Here no one speaks Turkish (of course), the neighbors are never by, everyone wastes water. But it is so easy to return to my old patterns and thoughts and chores, to let the past two months just fade away into distant memory...

I wonder what it would be like to move to a new country permanently, knowing that you had no home to go back to. I moved to the United States with my parents when I was five. For me it was easy, as it is for all kids. I am an American now, with fluent English and a U.S. education. But for my parents...

Some things you get used to quickly in Turkey: not making eye contact with men on the street (it's taken as a come-on), how to order Turkish coffee, where to stand on a metro train to avoid the jostling (near the end of the car), how to use the Turkish keyboard.

Some things take longer: understanding conversations and the news, not smiling too much in public (such a difficult thing for me! :)), kisses on cheeks, the Turkish bureaucracy, sometimes intrusive questioning (many things we consider off limits, such as salaries, weight and marital status, are never taboo in Turkey). Even after two months, I still felt there was a veil between me and the rest of the world -- I couldn't quite catch all the words, all the nuances, all the gestures.

And some things you might never get used to. You have to keep working at it, but it might never feel comfortable. There is the culture: the insane driving, the machoism of men, the love of Atatürk. And the language: the Turkish lifting of eyebrows at the end of a question, the intonation of a request, the slang.

My dad still has a strong accent in English, even after 15+ years. Most of my parents' friends are Russian. And I can understand why. Sometimes you just get too tired of constantly speaking a foreign tongue, of straining for greater understanding...

What if I had to move to Turkey permanently? How would I make that choice? I wonder how long would it take to learn the language with the facility of a writer (even a mediocre one), how long would it take to feel at home there... As much as I miss the country, I am glad I don't have to make that decision now.

*****
My Turkish summer is now over. Thank you for everyone who read these posts, who thought about them, who posted comments. I loved having you along on my trip!!

But please don't leave yet! One of my friends from the program, Alice D., will be staying in Ankara at least until December (and possibly longer), studying abroad at Middle East Technical University. She has graciously agreed to continue the blog with her own adventures and reflections. I may still post a few more thoughts and articles occassionally, but from now on "Turkish Kahve" will be largely hers. If you are still curious about Turkey, and if you enjoyed reading this, I hope you continue to 'tune in.' :)

But for now, I wish you all a big "güle güle"!!

Heading Home

In a few hours, I'm boarding a train to Munich (where we have a six hour layover. Yeah, German beer! :) ), and then D.C. ... I can't believe this trip is already over.

I'll write a couple more posts when I get back, but then it's good-bye!* (at least until my next trip to Turkey)

Talk to you in 48 hours or so, across the continent, in another world...



*One of my friends from the program is staying in Ankara to study at Middle East Technical University. Maybe she will take up the blog? I will keep you updated...

Trippin' on İstanbul

İstanbul for Turkey is like New York City for the United States -- but if Los Angeles, Chicago, San Francisco and Boston didn't exist. It is the most populous city, the center of culture and finance, the port connecting East and West.

Urban migrants to İstanbul used to say: "İstanbul'un taşı toprağı altın" -- İstanbul's soil and rocks are gold; if you go to İstanbul, you'll make it.

After only three days there --the river ferries, the ancient castles and mosques, the good wine, the spice bazaar and the amazing simit* -- I know that I have to go back. In Ankara, where there are much fewer English speakers, I always feel like a foreigner. But in İstanbul I could blend into the city, just stand by the shores of the Bosphorus and be...

Because my time there was so short, I don't feel qualified to give you a real tour. Instead I want to focus on just one moment...

One of the first places we went was the Hagia Sophia ("Holy Wisdom" in Greek), first built as a church by Constantius II in 360, then destroyed twice, remade into a mosque, and finally, in 1935, converted into an official museum of the Turkish Republic.

İstanbul has been the capital of the Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman Empires, and for each, the Hagia Sophia was the crown jewel of the city. Conquering the building, making your mark there, meant claiming the entire city for yourself and your civilization.

Every first-time tourist in İstanbul makes a visit to the Hagia Sophia -- I met people from Morocco, Kazakhstan, Spain, Germany, Argentina. And every one of them sees the clash of religions and dynasties right there on the walls: Arabic decorations interlace with mosaic icons, the names of Allah hang above the faces of angels, Byzantine marble pillars tower over Ottoman minnarets...

Yet when I was there, just learning about the ancient architecture and history did nothing for me.**

It felt dead, unimportant, covered over with too much dust and fingerprints... I wanted to discover something still vital, still breathing.

It was only after pestering our guide that he revealed the current controversies swirling around the dome. Some Christian groups have filed petitions to convert Hagia Sophia into a church as a prerequisite for Turkey's E.U. accession. On the other side, some Islamic groups want it to be a mosque again, and many protested when the pope visited the site...

So even today, over 1500 years after its founding, the stones retain their power and symbolism...

I think there are in general two ways to travel. Most of the tourists who pass through the ancient churches and mosques go on vacation to get away from their jobs and their regular lives. They go to turn their brains off, to just look at pretty sites and relax.

But sometimes the best relaxation is exactly opposite -- what I love about traveling is the way it forces you to think along a different course, about new things in a foreign environment. That is what relaxes your brain, without dulling it.

*****

I have only two days left here, so just a few more posts... But now I have to go in search of a bathroom :) -- only a few places in the city currently have enough water reserves for toilet flushing. Unfortunately, my Turkish school is not one of them...

*The ubiquitous Turkish sesame bread, sold every morning by simitçiler all over every city. But İstanbul's is a class above the rest.

**Probably because I major in international relations, not in history. :)

So, about the water...

Now, what I should be writing about is İstanbul. Or the İslamic grocery stores here. Or at least about politics. But with three full days left in Ankara, all I can think about is how much I need a shower...

The water shortage has been in effect for a week now. The water was supposed to flow on an alternating cycle -- two days off, two days on -- with normal service returning in October.*

Instead, it turns on and off seemingly randomly. No one knows what is going on -- neither my teachers, my host family, my friends, nor, apparently, the mayor of Ankara. Mayor Melih Gökçek has been quoted as saying "if God wills it the disaster will end," while also blaming everything on global warming. He also urges citizens to leave the city and "go visit their parents." At least five staff members of the Greater Ankara Municipality have resigned since the shortage started...

This morning I woke up late to find that I had missed three hours of regular water flow. So I had another sponge bath...

Just last night, a water pipe burst outside the city. (The TV showed absurd images of people wading through a flood...) Now my host family claims we will not have regular water for at least five days. And at school, they said students can't use the bathroom for at least three days -- there are only enough reserves for the teachers' toilet flushing, apparently. I guess now is definitely a good time to be heading home...**

But -- I am not boarding an international flight after going shower-less for a week (at least out of respect for my fellow passengers).

So right after I finish this post, I am caving in, and going to a nearby bakkal to buy myself four or five liters.

And I am taking my goddamn shower. :)

*Most (though not all) houses have water reserves saved up, so there is (usually) enough water for toilets and handwashing.

**To put this all in perspective, my friend Joe told me about the water shortage in Yaounde, Cameroon, where he is currently working. Despite having frequent rainfall, the capital city did not have water for two days in late July because of corruption. I guess Ankara has not reached that level. Yet.

The Atatürk Shrine

A while ago, we went to the War of Independence Musum in the center of Ankara. I never wrote about it then, but I wanted to share with you some impressions.

This is the courtryard of the Atatürk mausoleum and the War of Independence Musuem.

What we saw:

Uniformed guards motionless in front of the doors, Buckingham Palace-like. They hold one hand on the gun, one hand on a knife. (My host father says the guns are without real bullets, just for show. To show what?)

Then, inside, a picture entitled "The Selfless Contributions Made By Turkish Women in the National Struggle." Haggard women carrying jewelry and rugs to an army truck, painted in the best over-emotional propaganda style, akin to Soviet social realism...

"The Day of Youth and Sport." Immediately reminds me of North Korea, Stalin's decrees, Hitler's Germany: the emphasis on strong bodies and obedient minds...

"The Massacres Perpetrated in Anatolia During the Invasion Years." Greeks killing Turkish soldiers in what the Greeks call "The Great Catastrophe" and Turks call "The War of Independence." Description: "During these massacres, the fact that clerics played a provoking role has been proven by historical evidence."*...

Battle scene panoramas on every wall... As I scribble notes, a soundtrack of gunfire, bombs, loading weapons, and an opera chorus of the Turkish independence theme plays on endless repeat...

Towering above it all is the form of Atatürk. He is climbing a steep slope, leaning forward, one foot ahead of the other, a cigarette in his hand. His face is grim, focused -- the face that appears on currency, on sides of buildings, in classrooms. His expression is one I have seen on icons depicting God: a stern father, willing to be kind, but also recording all transgressions and faults...

The same outline of Atatürk on a building in Diyarbakır

There are quotes from Atatürk written on the walls. For example: "Writing the history is as important as making it. If the writer does not comply with the maker, the truth can acquire aspects that will confuse humanity." 23 August 1931.

*****

When I leave, the whole effect is one of overwhelming kitsch, but also some revulsion. And fear.

Maybe my reaction is exxagerated, molded too strongly by horror stories from family and friends alive in Stalin's Russia. From endless accounts of Hitler, from too many over-dramatized, Hollywood-ized representations. Maybe it only seems so scary because it is foreign -- maybe we have similar (though less extreme) exhibits in the United States. Maybe all new nations need to inculcate patriotism to preserve themselves...

Maybe. But I can't help but think what kind of an effect this has in the minds of Turks, on children educated to have complete faith in the founder and his tenets, complete obedience to Atatürk's vision for Turkey's future...**

(Previously someone asked about Kemalism. There is a more in-depth Wikipedia article about it, but the basic idea is that everything Mustafa Kemal Atatürk wanted for Turkey -- from complete secularism to intense patriotism and a strong military -- should be preserved, treasured, and accepted. (Also see my post about currency).)

*****

I have to go prepare for my last week of class now, but I'd like to finish this post later this week with a look at what I've seen of Atatürk's legacy in modern Turkey...

*This is another jab at religion -- Atatürk blamed Islam for many of the faults, and eventual collapse, of the Ottoman Empire...

**An important point to acknowledge: as far as nationalism and cults of personality go, Atatürk was not the worst person to imitate, and really much better than most: his belief in republicanism, giving women a political voice, education, and modernization were exactly what Turkey needed to prevent it from becoming another Islamist dictatorship.
But what concerns me is the repercussions of his vision: the emphasis on paternalism and faith over critical analysis and independent action...

The Pide Episode

I may have been here for almost two months, but that doesn't mean I know what's going on. Here is a typical example of my Turkish cluelessness:

We got back from İstanbul via bus at 7am yesterday. So I crashed for a while, and woke up sweating around noon. Half an hour later there was a knock on the door. I was too out of it to worry about burglars or murderers, so I opened it. There was a uniformed guy there, holding a plastic bag of food and saying something. Unfortunately in moments of uncertainty, my Turkish flies out the window. All I could string together was "what?" and "who?"

He was nice though, and un-condescending, telling me sumtinsomething "Abla ordered it."* Maybe my host mother had decided to buy me lunch? Maybe this was a weekly dinner order I didn't know about? The origins of my lunch were shrouded in uncertainty. I knew only one thing: I now owed the guy 11.50 YTL (New Turkish Lira). I managed to scrounge together 9.50 (he didn't have change, of course). But he said it was fine and left.

(Two things that would never happen in the U.S.: 1. an order coming without a receipt. 2. a delivery guy accepting less money and no tip.)

Inside the bag were two cups of ayran (a type of salty yogurt drink all Turks guzzle in summer), some plastic-wrapped salad, and a whole tray of pides, the Turkish version of pizza (thinner, with less cheese and more toppings.)

By the time my host mother Funda got back and discovered it had been a mistake, two slices of yummy pide were in my stomach. Poor delivery guy. Out of all the streets and all the houses in Ankara, he had to choose the one with the hungriest and most confused foreigner...

Funda laughed for a while, but then we had some of the leftovers for dinner. Quite delicious. I do wonder who was left without her lunch, though...


*In Turkey everyone of similar age calls each other abla (sister) or abi (brother), with amca (uncle) or teyze (aunt) for older people. A Turkish Embassy representative said that Turks often feel closer to Americans than to Europeans because both cultures are more casual in social interactions.