Merhaba!
There is much to say. Apologies are due, no…not really, an explanation is more like it, for why I haven't posted sooner. Turkey is no joke. I think it would probably be fitting for me to say anywhere is no joke if it is wholly foreign to you. There are many countries, while they may not be "English speaking," at least they are "English friendly." I don't really find that to be the case in Turkey. If you get lost somewhere you are just that… lost, and you have the opportunity to REMAIN LOST for a very long time. People in Turkey don't speak English with pride. It's a part of the tightly sewn quilt of the nationalism of the country, as if speaking English would be disrespectful to the country's allegiance to Mustpha Kemel Ataturk, the founder of the Turkish Republic, still an ever-present and beloved figure in Turkey. Since my arrival, I have hung my head in odious daze by some things, and been equally marked and magnified by many as well. There have been many lessons here for me as a descendant of the African slave trade and unfortunately, even more for my host, Istanbul. You do the math on that.
Out of everything, one of my most valuable lessons has been that everything you learn in Research Methods class is true. Research is a protracted, isolating and lonely enterprise. However, the big news, is that the research really is not what happens. I'm reminded of my favorite poem, "Ithaka," by Constantine P. Cavafy:
"As you set out for Ithaka
hope the voyage is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians and Cyclops, angry Poseidon- don't be afraid of them…"
I don't care whether you are investigating 16th century Cambodian baby shoes, or researching the history of people of African descent in Turkey, which is what i'm doing, what you really find is… you. On the streets as I walk to
Üsküdar, riding on the ferry across the tempestous Bosphorus, or inarticulate before the magnificence of The Blue Mosque, I find myself. My ideas about just how I'm having my being here, in this fiercely foreign land, previously held beliefs dispelled… or not, about men, women and religions other than my own, and opening my arms to caress my own strength and resilience that I didn't know I had, these are the things I have discovered most.
My plane from Paris taxied onto the Ataturk International Airport tarmac under the cover of Turkish darkness. Weary from the 2 hour maze of customs that showed no mercy, I finally walked out into the terminal slightly after 3AM, and there it was… NEWBERRY. I had never been so glad to see my name on a piece of paper in my life! Muhammad, the brother assigned to pick me up, had forgotten to allot time for customs and had become so worried that he had called the police 3 times! Funky, irritated, alternately tearful, and positively in awe that I now stood on Turkish soil, I hurtled the cart with my luggage towards the man bearing the sign and said, "I am Kym Newberry." Once in the car, the first thing Muhammad asked was if I was hungry. I was starving, and had resigned myself to not seeing anything that resembled food until later in the day. But now, i've learned that it is the custom, no matter the time of arrival, to stop at a "sandwich shop" not far from the university. The "shop" is a cart bearing pickles and all manner of Turkish cold cuts. If you thought I was happy to see that sign, you'll never know how happy I was to see the "sandwich shop." At last we arrived at the women's dormitory of the Istanbul Sehir University where I will be conducting the aforementioned research for 4 months. There were a few problems from the gate, but I was exhausted and would be in no position to defend my objections until later in the morning after a bit of sleep. I crawled into the bed, with my clothes on and made myself available for sleep to come and find me. Suddenly, the dulcet tones of the Adhan, the Islamic call to prayer meandered in the room like a river. I was father away from home that I had ever been, physically, culturally and spiritually. The Adhan, pierced through the room. Tears wet my pillow. I wanted to sleep fast, so that I could hurry and get up in a few hours to see this far place, this Turkey, this…Ithaka that I had come to.
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| The Blue Mosque |
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| The Blue Mosque |
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| Ceiling, Blue Mosque |
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| Blue Mosque |
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| Aysenur and I outside Blue Mosque |
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| Entrance, Blue Mosque |
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| Ceiling, Blue Mosque |
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| Blue Mosque |
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| Blue Mosque |
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| On the steps of Blue Mosque with Asysenur Altuntas |
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| Hagia Sophia |
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| Leaving, "Asia' for "Europe" on the Bosphorus |
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| The Port in KadikoyBelediyesi |
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| The Port |
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| The Bosphorus Bridge, Evening |
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| The Bosphorus Bridge |
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| Leaving the Asian side |
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| The ferry to Kadikoy Bekediyesi |
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| Exquisite linen shop in Uskudar |
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| Gezi Park, today |
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| The closed opera house |
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| Old restaurant in Ortakoy |
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| One of the oldest streets in Istanbul, in Ortakoy |
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| Ortakoy |
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| Fabulous beads in Ortakoy |
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| Raki in Ortakoy!!!! |
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| Mosque in Uskudar, Evening |
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| Women's praying section in Uskudar mosque |
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| A bit of research material |
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| Hagia Sophia |
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| Blue Mosque |
