The Turkish Life

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Mornings in Maçka

The older gentleman with the high-waisted shorts doing jumping jacks and hip swivels by the side of the path.

The two younger men walking their matching woolly dogs.

The woman who runs with her shoulders pulled up close to her ears.

The tall, lanky man with white hair who runs with a big grin on his face.

The girl out for a power walk in the "What breaks your heart?" T-shirt.

I don't know any of their names, but they are my people, part of the motley crew of runners, joggers, walkers, and calisthenics-doers who come alone, in pairs, or in small groups to Maçka Park in the quiet hours of the morning. The low hum of traffic can still be heard from the other side of the trees, and the peace is occasionally broken by the thwack-thwack-thwack of a helicopter descending to drop off some VIP at the nearby Ritz-Carlton hotel.

The Maçka Park running track.
But in a city where exercising still often seems like a mark of extreme eccentricity, where going out for a run means dodging cars, stumbling over torn-up pavement, and trying to ignore hecklers and leering eyes, the park is a small oasis, a place where you can stretch, sprint, or shuffle to your heart's content among a like-minded cohort. It's a little bit of sanity and humanity in a sad and difficult world. If the city ever tries to pave it over and put in a mall, I'll be the first one out in front of the bulldozers.

Photo via BirinciBlog.com and its article "10 best running routes in Istanbul."

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

City for sale

My initial, indelible memory of arriving in Istanbul for the very first time was speeding in a taxi at night under the illuminated Valens Aqueduct, its stone arches towering overhead as the domes of mosques glimmered in the distance.

Nice spot for a meze joint.
Now the Istanbul Municipality reportedly wants to "restore" the 4th-century structure and plop a restaurant on top -- along with a walking path, which would admittedly be kind of cool, and an observation deck (h/t @nblaser18). With a cheesy nightclub already inside Beyoğlu's medieval Galata Tower, malls going up left and right, and the mayor promising an aerial cable-car ride across the Bosphorus, there seems to be no fighting the total Disneyfication of Istanbul. Herewith, a few modest proposals for embracing the inevitable:

Yedikule AVM -- Seven towers, seven different shopping experiences!

Chora Çay Bahçesi and Kıraathane -- Sip your tea and smoke endlessly on the tranquil grounds of this former Byzantine church. The card rooms inside are the best-decorated in town.

The Aya Sofya Experience -- Why gaze up in awe at what was once the world's highest ceiling when you can show that old dome who's boss on Istanbul's tallest climbing wall? The athletically challenged can go inner-tubing through the newly opened underground cisterns below.

Rumeli Hisarı Et Mangal Piknik Alanı -- Celebrate the Conquest every weekend with a cook-out inside this 15th-century fortress on the Bosphorus. Book well ahead for a private spot with a sweeping view inside one of the old look-out towers.

Dolmabahçe Döner Dünyası -- The world's biggest and most glamorous kebab shop, bar none.

Friday, June 13, 2014

Emotional cartography

"Looking at things too much celebrated, like views of beautiful cities, is equal to not seeing anything at all. Our brain, as soon as [it] acknowledges the images, doesn't need to work on them."*
A patch of earth. A dinner plate. A gas station. A row of chairs. The subjects of young Turkish photographer Cemre Yeşil's series "This Was" ("Bak Bu") are the polar opposites of those discussed by curator Vittorio Urbani in his introduction to an unrelated (though nearby) exhibit. They are things little celebrated, and often not even noticed. But by pairing these simple, yet skillfully composed, camera-phone images with short bits of handwritten text, each work becomes a moving exploration of how the angle of a loved one's foot or a nondescript spot by the sea can evoke powerful personal memories; how the joys and losses we experience attach themselves to the places we pass through everyday, superimposing an emotional map onto the physical one.

Walking home from the exhibit, I was inspired to capture a few of the spots on my own emotional map of the neighborhood in similar style, a humble tribute to Yeşil's fine work, on display through this weekend at Daire Sanat.

This is where I found his cat.

This is how I first found my way.

This is where I ran in fear.

This is where my heart once sang.

Cemre Yeşil's exhibition "Bak Bu // This Was" can be seen at Daire Sanat on Boğazkesen Caddesi No: 76A, Tophane, Beyoğlu, through June 15. The gallery is open Saturday from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m.; Sunday by appointment only.

* Quoted from curator Vittorio Urbani's introduction to Italian artist Flavio Favelli's exhibition "Grape Juice," showing at the Galata Rum Okulu in Karaköy until June 14.

Friday, May 16, 2014

Kalbimiz Soma'da: How to help families of Soma mine disaster victims

Since news broke Tuesday of a deadly explosion in a coal mine in Soma, a town in Turkey's Manisa province, the country has been plunged into deep mourning as the number of fatalities climbed to at least 283, making it the deadliest industrial disaster in Turkey's history.

That grief, however, has also been accompanied by frustration and anger as details of the working conditions at the mine, Turkey's overall poor workplace safety record, and the prime minister and other government officials' callous-at-best response to the tragedy have become public.

Across the country, events have been canceled out of respect for the dead, protests held to demand justice, and signs of solidarity posted in windows everywhere from supermarkets to bars, office building to taxicabs. Relief initiatives are also being set up to help the families of the Soma victims. Here are some ways you can show that "Soma Madencisi Yalnız Değil" (Soma Miners Are Not Alone) and "Kalbimiz Soma'da" (Our Hearts Are In Soma):

TPF Soma Disaster Relief Fund
The U.S.-based Turkish Philanthropy Funds, which specializes in "high-impact social investments in Turkey," is collecting donations to be distributed to miners' families through targeted grants to the organization's well-regarded local NGO partners.
(Update: Turkish Philanthropy Funds is also using the Global Giving website to make it easier for U.S.-based supporters to donate via text message, check, stock donation, or monthly recurring donation.)

Soma Mining Disaster Relief Fund
Acclaimed Turkish scientist and conservationist Çağan Şekercioğlu has set up an online campaign to raise funds for families of the mine victims, many of whom hailed from his home province, nearby Balıkesir. Şekercioğlu, whose environmental work I've covered in the past, will deliver 100 per cent of the funds directly to needy families, many of which have no breadwinners left after the disaster and are facing bankruptcy.
(Update: The first batch of donations were delivered one week after the disaster to 11 families in the small, but hard-hit village of Elmadere. The money will help sustain families until government pensions kick in. Şekercioğlu will make another visit to the affected area at the end of June to distribute the remaining funds. He can also help facilitate donations for the ongoing legal expenses that will be incurred in lawsuits against the mining company.)

Soma için Gençlik Burs Fonu (Soma Youth Scholarship Fund)
Toplum Gönüllüleri Vakfı (Community Volunteers Foundation), a partner organization of the charity running group Adım Adım, has created a Soma Youth Scholarship Fund to help fund the education of students who lost a close family member in the mine disaster.
 
If you know of any other reliable, worthy groups collecting donations or offering other assistance to Soma miners' families, please let me know and I'll keep updating the list.


UPDATES:

Soma İçin Müzik (Music for Soma)
Turkish music promoter Pozitif Live will be donating ticket revenues from its June concerts -- the One Love Festival, Travis, Bob Dylan, Travis, and the Pixies -- to help families who lost their loved ones in the Soma disaster.

Other options
For those who read Turkish, the news site Haberturk, entertainment site ListeList.com, and family travel blog Gezgin Anne have each put together fairly long (and in many cases overlapping) lists of organizations that have started Soma relief campaigns. I haven't independently verified the trustworthiness of those not already mentioned, so any reader input on those that do (or do not) merit support would be appreciated.

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Yorumsuz (No comment)

"Please give me your blessings, son."
     -- Note found in the hand of a miner who died in this week's Soma mine disaster near İzmir, Turkey

"Let me take my boots off, the stretcher shouldn't get dirty."

"Mahmut didn't get out. Mahmut couldn't get out… Leave me, I'm alone, take him. His wife is pregnant..."
     -- Rescued miner

# # # 

"Explosions like this in these mines happen all the time. It's not like these don't happen elsewhere in the world."
    -- Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, visiting the Soma diaster site

"Those who survived Soma were the ones who used their minds."
   -- İzmir Deputy Governor Mustafa Harputlu, a member of Erdoğan's ruling party

"The rumors that a 15-year-old died in the mine was false. He was 19. That's good news."

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Lobby-apalooza

After ice-dancing pair Alper Uçar and Alisa Agafonova, representing Turkey in the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, were eliminated from the short dance program competition, Turkish newspaper Haberturk knew just who to blame: The ice skating lobby.

Photo via @aylajean
Whether sincere or tongue-in-cheek, the paper's headline riffs on the seemingly endless succession of "lobbies" that have been blamed -- mostly by the government and its allies -- at least since the Gezi Park protests last summer for all manner of ills befalling Turkey. It's getting tough to keep track of all the would-be foes, but keep your eyes peeled for members of these undesirable elements:

Ermeni lobisi (Armenian lobby)

Faiz lobisi (Interest-rate lobby)

İsrail lobisi (Israeli lobby)

Kan lobisi (Blood lobby)

Kaos lobisi (Chaos lobby) -- Previously cited by Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan as a foreign-backed force trying to harm Turkey's economy, the "kaos lobisi" was recently blamed by Food, Agriculture and Livestock Minister Mehdi Eker for price increases on beans, potatoes, and meat.

Medya lobisi (Media lobby)

Müteahhit lobisi (Contractors lobby)

Porno lobisi (Porn lobby)

Robot lobisi (Robot lobby) -- This new addition to the list was coined by PM Erdoğan, following the release of audio tapes allegedly implicating him and his son directly in an ongoing corruption scandal, to refer to those he claims are engaging in social media attacks against him.

Rum-Yunan lobisi (Greek lobby) 

Savaş lobisi (War lobby)*

Savcı lobisi (Prosecutors' lobby)*

Terör lobisi (Terror lobby)

Uluslararası lobi (International lobby)

Vaiz lobisi (Preacher lobby) -- Refers to Turkish preacher Fethullah Gülen, whose cemaat (community) is accused of engineering a wide-ranging corruption investigation targeting many government allies.

Yahudi lobisi (Jewish lobby)**

And drop me a line with any additions to the list that you've spotted in the news -- bonus points for source links (in Turkish or English).

* Thanks to @clevantine for the correction.
** Thanks to @Istanbultelaviv for the addition and link.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Hepimiz Hrantız

It wasn't the sternest slogan of the day -- "The murderer state will be held to account" is pretty tough to beat in that department -- but seven years after the killing of Armenian-Turkish journalist Hrant Dink, the simple, poignant words "Hepimiz Hrantız, Hepimiz Ermeniyiz" still pack a punch.

We are all Hrant. We are all Armenian.

In a country that has often sought to downplay, if not entirely deny, the presence of minority populations, the appearance at Dink's 2007 funeral of this slogan on small black-and-white placards must have been a powerful sight. This year, some of the round signs, now a multilingual hallmark of the annual commemoration of Dink's death, had been adapted to show solidarity with those killed during last year's Gezi Park protests: "We are all Ethem. We are all Ali İsmail." The van leading the slow, solemn march from Taksim Square to the site of Dink's murder also broadcast a call for justice for Kurdish brothers and sisters killed in the Roboski massacre, for which no one has been held accountable two years on.


Otherwise, the protest remained closely focused on the martyred champion of minority rights, who has become a symbol of broader demands for democracy and freedom. Few of the multitude of flags and banners usually seen at Turkish protests were in evidence, and those that could be spotted were swept to the edges of the sea of monochrome signs remembering Dink and calling for justice to finally be done in regards to his death. Near the offices of Dink's newspaper Agos, where he was gunned down in broad daylight, a handful of youths tore down flags for the nationalist party MHP and tried to get some breakaway chants going. But few in the sober, disciplined crowd seemed interested in giving the riot police who had gathered en masse any excuse to interfere, or in detracting for one moment from the man being mourned.

For Hrant. For Justice.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Hoşgeldin 2014!


Yeni yıl, herkes için daha fazla barış, daha fazla özğürlük, daha fazla gerçekleşme, ve kesinlikle daha fazla aşk dopdolu olsun... mutlu yıllar!

May the new year be full of more peace, more freedom, more fulfillment, and definitely more love for everyone... happy new year!

Saturday, November 9, 2013

A haunted schoolhouse

Visitors' voices lower instinctively to a hush upon entering the echoing central hall of the Ioakimion School for Girls in Istanbul's Fener neighborhood. Bright sunlight streams through the windows into rooms marked "Orta III" (Middle III) and "Kitaplık" (Library), where multicolored layers of paint peel off into abstract patterns. Desks worn smooth through decades of use sit primly in their rows, facing blackboards from which the final lessons were never erased.

Constructed in 1879 and used as a girls' high school until 1988, when the last six students graduated, the shuttered Ioakimion stands as just one of many melancholy monuments to an Istanbul that once was -- a multilingual, multicultural city full of Greeks, Armenians, and Jews. The sense of sadness and loss that has seeped into the school's walls must have been attractive to Greek artist Kalliopi Lemos, whose installation "I Am I, Between Worlds and Between Shadows," a parallel event to the 13th Istanbul Biennial, has offered a rare chance to peek into the school between Sept. 11 and Nov. 10.

Lemos's exhibition, which consists of a piped-in soundtrack of children's voices and seven bronze sculptures of hobbled, headless, hanging, or disfigured human-animal hybrids, is meant to bring attention to "the status of women and children and the upholding of their self-respect and human dignity," according to the artist's statement. Though a worthy aim, this topic is not necessarily what first springs to mind upon viewing her sad grotesques, which is perhaps why Lemos added the overly didactic (if suited to the educational environment) touch of placing articles about violence against women and children on some of the classrooms' empty desks.

Without the interpretative materials provided by the artist, the sculptures in some ways take on an even greater burden, allowing the viewer to project onto their misshapen forms any kind of pain, torment, or alienation. The disturbing figures Lemos has created further haunt the school's abandoned rooms, their ugly scars like physical manifestations of the wounds of a nearly disappeared community and the city it once called home.

TO VISIT: The Ioakimion School for Girls (Fener Yoakimion Rum Kız Okulu) is located at Mektep Sok. 15 in Fener, below the more prominent Fener Greek High School (aka the "Red School"), and is open Tuesday through Sunday from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. Admission is free.

Friday, October 25, 2013

Be mine?

It may very well be simply an innocuous function of the two languages' respective grammars, but something occurred to me earlier this week about Turkish terms of endearment.

While English-speakers (American ones, at least) refer to the object of their affection with the likes of "honey" and "sweetie," Turkish-speakers use words like

canım (my soul)
aşkım (my love)
hayatım (my life)
tatlım (my sweet)

Notice a pattern? If you've observed the possessiveness too often seen in romantic relationships here, I bet you probably do.