Your Coup Cannot Destroy My Turkey

While I have not experienced a lot of conflict in my life/travels nor am I stranger to it. I was evacuated from Belgrade in February 2008 when, as a result of the US's recognition of Kosovo's independence a group of people tried to burn down the US embassy. I was in Kabul in December 2011 for the Ashura suicide bombing. I have been in Istanbul for more than three years now and lived through Gezi and the summer of tear gas, both Sultanahmet suicide bombings, the suicide bombing on Istiklal-a seven minute walk from my apartment-the attack on the Ataturk International Airport, and a variety of protests. However the July 15 coup attempt was my first coup.

After Friday night, which was the most terrifying experience of my life-surpassing even that time I thought I was going to die on the Great Wall of China-I don't know why people would choose to go to an air show. Well, really even before Friday I couldn't understand that, but hearing the screams of the F16 and the resultant sonic booms many of thought were bombs I don't know why someone would willing want to listen to that. The next morning many discussions on Facebook groups and from my friends were about leaving Turkey. This coup, be it a real attempt or Erdogan theater (which I think more likely), this was the straw that broke the camel's back for many people. However when people ask me if I plan to leave I just look at them quizzically and say "No. Why would I do that?"

To be fair to the discussion, I am planning to leave Turkey. I decided this last fall when I realized that I want to be a sommelier and do my training in Italy; but this failed coup attempt will neither push me out faster nor will it change the fact that I'll probably be back. Why not? Because this, this country of coups, failing democracy, violence, and a willful retreat into the dark ages is not my Turkey.

The Bosphorus and the Seraglio Point from Galatasaray

Kiz Kulesi/Maiden's Tower

My Turkey is beautiful. It's where I can be awed time and again by the magic of the Bosphorus and the iconic images of the Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque. It's where you can cruise the Bosphorus to watch for dolphins and appreciate the beautiful, elaborate palaces and architecture along this ancient waterway.

Mount Nemrut

Celsus Library at Ephesus

It is timeless and melds cultures from across history. The Ottoman Empire, which ended not even 100 years ago (in 1922 to be exact) encompassed a vast array of peoples and cultures which is part of what made the modern Turkish nation so great-whether or not anyone wants to remember that. Turkey is home to some of the world's most amazing Greco/Roman ruins including Ephesus, the best preserved Greco-Roman ruins in the Aegean as well as empires like the Selcuks who fell to the Romans even before Ephesus was standing.

Hagia Sophia

Chora Church

My Turkey was the cradle of Christianity. There are over 100 churches in Istanbul alone. Granted many have been converted to mosques and/or museums but they're still standing; including the Hagia Sophia-one of the oldest churches in the world. Across the Marmara Sea is the city of Iznik, famous not just for its beautiful blue and white tiles but for once being Nicea where the fathers of the Eastern and Western Christian churches met and formalized the faith. If you fly into Izmir to visit Ephesus you're actually flying into the ancient Biblical city of Smyrna and while you're in Ephesus you can visit nearby Meryamana-the house where the Mother of God lived with Saint John before her assumption. You can visit cave churches of early Christians around the country, most famously in Cappadocia or, if you really like to walk, follow the path of Saint Paul across the country.

It is the home to some of of the most beautiful and mysterious natural land formations like the limestone travertines of Pamukkale which gleam like snow under the sun and the fairy chimneys of Cappadocia. Turkey is where tulips were first mass grown and in fact introduced the flower to the Dutch. While the Dutch now surpass them in tulip production, Turkey is still one of the world's top tulip growers, holds a tulip festival every year that blankets the city in color, and incorporates the flower in many of its most traditional motifs.

My Turkey is friendly and hospitable. It's where within five minutes of arriving at your family-run cave hotel in Cappadocia you're holding the baby and are part of the family. It's where that family goes out of its way to make sure you get a booking for the hot air balloons despite the atrocious weather because its your little brother's first trip abroad and he has to have this experience; and where airport ticket agents try hard to get you an exit row seat because that same "little" brother is 6'7". It's where the guys at your favorite bufe go the extra mile and make your orange juice fancy because its your birthday and where shops and cafes you regularly frequent go out of their way to remember your order or provide extra special service.

Cat at Ephesus

Language school cat, Aslan

My Sherlock

My Turkey is also where that hospitality extends to animals and where people care for stray animals, especially cats, in a way I have never seen anywhere else. It's where tram drivers stop packed trains so cats can cross the tracks, where many of the local governments provide funding so street cats can receive free care, where people build shelters and leave out water and food for the cats. It's where cats are welcome in (and often cared for exclusively by) shops, cafes, museums, and historical sites. Turkey is also where I met my Sherlock who is naughty and spoiled but seeks shelter near me when the world is falling down around us and is possibly the love of my life.

 

This is where I have met amazing people, both Turkish and other foreigners. They have helped me apartment hunt, translated/interpreted for me before I learned the language, opened their homes to me, encouraged my studies in wine, and readily welcomed me into their groups in a way I never experienced in the US. I have met people here who not only embrace me as a friend but look after me like I'm family.

My Turkey is where I have had experiences I couldn't have anywhere else. When His Holiness Pope Francis came to Istanbul in 2014 I not only got a ticket to the Mass, thanks to my parish priest I also served at the Papal Mass. In 2016 I got to see the same humble, caring parish priest be ordained as Bishop of Istanbul, putting him in charge of one of the oldest Christian parishes in the world. Here I learned Turkish, or you know, learned it well enough to manage my daily life and read book 1 of Harry Potter. I have formally studied eight languages and Turkish is one of the most complicated and difficult ones; the only one in fact that gets more and not less difficult the more you learn. I probably sound like a five-year old when I talk but people are always not only willing to listen to me struggle through sentences but are happy that I'm trying.

This is my Turkey. My Turkey is ancient, beautiful, spiritual, colorful, brave, hospitable, cultured, exciting, and magical. Yes there is a terrible and dark core eating away it and it may be systematically destroyed by its own government and people but the vision and memories I have of this magnificent country cannot be destroyed no matter how many (fake) coups happen or what terror the government rains down on its own citizens. This is my Turkey, and this is how I will remember it always.

Greetings From Serbia - Protest

Ahh Saturday. I give myself one day a week off here and this week it was today. I slept in, watched the Beast Master (TV show not movie) on B92 and did not leave my room until about 12:30. I bundled up against the cold and bitterly sharp winds, grabbed my camera, and headed off for one of my favorite parts of the Old City, Kalemegdan.

On my way to the fortress I passed a small van blaring Serbian folk music and a small gathering of people with flags and realized that this must be the protest I'd been reading about. Interestingly enough, to me at least, the protest was taking place in from of the Slovenian embassy. I am not at all certain what the Slovenains have done to piss off the Serbs. I mean, I understood the big protest last spring in front of the American embassy, but Slovenia? By the time I'd have enough of being buffeted this way and that as I meanered around the fortress the small group of men had grown and there were multiple flags waving, banners, and more and more people on there way. I snapped a few pictures but beat it out of there pretty quickly.





I think my friends' paranoia is catching and combine that with the skitishness I developed after my last protest experience I beat it out of there pretty quickly. Sunday is already being called Independence Day for Kosovo and my friends have advised me to stay indoors as much as possible tomorrow and while outside, to pretend that I am Russian. This is definitely an interesting time to be in Serbia and while I know what could happen tomorrow from minor protests to full-blown riots, if my Serbian were at all better than 'cheese omlette' and 'strawberry jogurt frappe' I would be out there with them. If Kosovo actually declares tomorrow and is recognized by the international community then it will be a day for the history books. Granted it would be a paragraph in American history books if it even makes it in since history at Coopersville grades 1 through 12 ended with the Allied victory in World War II, it will nonetheless be a day. Kosovo has been trying to gain independence from Serbia since even before the breakup of Yugoslavia and the war in the 90s. The general international community including the United States and the EU are for it while Russia remains Serbia's last voice of protest. Of course Russian only protests because independence for Kosovo could likely mean independence for all the Russian satellite nations who have been trying to free themselves from Russian control.

Like any city there is grafitti everywhere here but what I find really fascinating is all the political grafitti:


This for example says: Never EU


This would be the Hammer and Sicle of the former Soviet Union, spray painted, no doubt, by somone nostalgic for the old days who is too young to remember them if he was even alive for them.


Appropriate for this weekend, this one says: We will never give up Kosovo


The top line of this one is common slogan in Serbia and is actually part of the flag. Loosly translates to something like 'Only unity will save the Serb' I guess can also mean somehting about a Serb killing another Serb with an axe (don't ask). The bottom says 'Slobodan (Milosevic) or Death.' Also no doubt written by one of those nostalgic people.

I'm glad I caught the protest as early as I did since later in the afternoon I recieved a text message warning me to stay away as the gathering had swelled so dramatically that polica vans were being sent in for crowd control. Yeesh.

Greetings From Serbia-Randomness

The lovely and unseasonable weather we've been having in Belgrade has sadly come to an end. Since Thursday it has got steadily colder and rained. Today after Mass I even saw that most dreaded thing of all...snow. However, far from cursing its advent as I would normally do I am rather happy about it and hope that Belgrade gets enough snow that it sticks and at least moderately covers surfaces for a day or two. I have never seen Belgrade in snow and look forward to the opportunity to shoot Kalemegdan and the rest of the city under a blanket of white...I'll even get up before the rest of the city to do it before people trample it.

Work stuff is going semi-well here although I am having a major gripe with the staff of our donors who are being counter-helpful. I vent enough to my colleagues here in Belgrade so I shan't say anything more about that here-only that if I cannot get all the activities under this program complete in the short time I have it is not my fault as the funder continues to hold me back.

So that randomness as I'm sure you were wondering where it was. Many people have heard me mention my favorite coffee place here, Coffee Dream, and have heard me lament that while in the States I cannot partake of Coffee Dreams strawberry frappes and moccachinos (which are the most perfect blend of European drinking chocolate and coffee). My friends here have introduced me to another recently arrived coffeechain: Costa Coffee. A British chain it serves Italian style coffee with flavour almost as intense and dark as Illy. It has also introduced muffins and cafe sandwiches to Serbia. Although I have been told that the muffin dough is imported from England as they do not trust the Serbs to follow a recipe, the muffins are lovely and, as I found out after Mass today, so are the focaccio sandwiches. What is truely gratifying though, is the coffee. Costa's macchiatos are what a macchiato should be, not the giant cups of coffee Starbucks want you think it should be, and Costa's ristrettos are strong and tart. After I broke through the thin crust of foam so dark it itself tasted like a coffeebean and took my first sip, my heart stopped. The fumes rose from the petit cup through my nose slamming into my brain with a force to knock me backwards and as my blood cucled that first sip around my body and returned to my heart stained as black as the coffee my heart again began to beat. Deep and hard THUNK! THUNK-THUNK! It has been ages since a coffee affected me thusly.

I certainly needed that kick today as I was out late last night with some friends. One of the things I enjoy most about my job (other than of course the travel!) is the people I get to meet. Three of the four people last night I knew previously through my job and and all four are long-time journalists who told amazing stories about their work and travels. Even though my job restricts me to the adminiserative side of media, my hunger for travel and desire to be a writer made their tales shine more brilliantly than perhaps they would have otherwise. And speaking of journalism, I may yet have a chance to write some interesting things for even just this blog.

I've mentioned the political situation here a few times already. Things only continue to get worse, not better, despite the less bad guy winning the presidential elections. The Prime Minister V. Kostunica, retains too much power and both can, and will, oppose Tadic and leas the parliament against him. In addition to the weakening state of the governmnet, Kosovo is expected to finally declare its independence sometime between February 16-18. should this happen my friends once again advise that I stay in my room until they can come get me and take me to their place. I may yet get my wish to experience another protest infront of the American embassy; although this time I do not know that I shall risk going near it. Well maybe near it, but not into it as I did last time.

Oh, and the thing I love best about Costa Coffee...it has a no smoking section which here is pretty unheard of.

Greetings From Serbia-Political Rallys

Zdravo!

I arrived in Serbia yesterday after a 7-hour flight to Munich, a 3 & 1/2 hour layover and then another 1 1/2 to Belgrade...all after having got up at 6 that day and not sleeping at all during the trip. So all told I think I was awake some 28 or 29 hours yesterday. Still feeling a little loopy.

I'd have liked to get to sleep fairly soon after arriving but was prevented by the exceedingly loud political rally going on practically under my window. Serbia had their first round of presidential elections on January 20th and the 2nd, and deciding round, will be this Sunday. The rally last night was for the incumbent Boris Tadic of the Democratic Party (DS). Thankfully, because there's a ban on all campaigning for the two days prior to the election and election day itself, they had to stop at midnight and I was finally able to sleep.



After the first round the favorite to win is the Serbian Radical Party's (SRS) Tomislav Nikolic. The feeling from my friends here is that if Nikolic does indeed win, how do they get out? Will life here return to what it was like in the 90's during and just after the war? Serbia still hasn't come as far as other former Yugoslav countries. One of the markers of success is whether or not the GDP has gone as high as it was in, I believe, 1989. Croatia's has, Bosnia's has...but Serbia is only at about 70% of where it needs to be. While I complain that I don't like any of the candidates for the American presidential campaign...at least for me the decision won't plunge the country into civil war or require me to convert all my less than considerable savings into portable wealth and flee the country (well, unless Hillary wins that is). Both candidates are giving lip service to a desire to join the EU but both are very opposed to independence for Kosovo and neither seem to be saying much about finally coming into full compliance with the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) in The Hague and turning over the remaining war criminals who are "in hiding" in Serbia. While I haven't studied the political environment here deeply enough to really have an opinion I do rather feel that the devil you know may be the better choice this time.



My friends are advising that I practice my Russian at least through Sunday, not go out much on Sunday, especially in the evening, and avoid talking about Kosovo. This should be an interesting weekend.