Beyond the #OccupyGezi hashtag in one Turkish-American household


image1.jpgSlowly, American folks around us have started to tune in to what is happening in Turkey. Some have caught on to this on Twitter via the hashtag #OccupyGezi, referring to the Occupy Movement in Istanbul’s Gezi Park, which was at risk of being razed for the development of the Prime Minister’s son’s shopping mall. Slowly, M. and I have learned to navigate the challenge of watching one’s homeland erupt into the unknown from thousands of miles away. It includes M.’s usually excellent English breaking down – I suppose due to preoccupation with what is going on at home – or as he says – one of his homes. It includes M. taking naps to alleviate stress, something I have never seen him do. It includes partnering on the production of protest slogans and signs for the protests that have occurred in and around Boston by the small population of Turks living here.

"One falls, thousands stand up" (Image author unknown)

“One falls, thousands stand up” (Image author unknown)

But back to the fact that people have come around to this news about Turkey slowly – this has been particularly painful for us – and for M. One colleague asked him “why the Islamists were rioting in Turkey” – not realizing that the movement appears to be largely driven by secular forces. I say slowly, as media coverage (especially television coverage) seemed slow to pick up the 10+ day old story. I was relieved to see CNN tonight, finally reporting much of what we heard last week on top of their live broadcasts of clashes between a minority of violent protestors and police all night in Taksim Square. In any case, if you want to get up to speed, by far the most thoughtful piece on the topic is written by a heroine of mine, , who addresses what the situation in Turkey means for the West in The Guardian here. If you read anything, read that, please!

20130609-224611.jpgSo, how has this impacted us as a couple? As reports began of protests and police brutality in Istanbul’s Taksim Square a week ago last Friday, M. and I hopped on our laptops and stayed there for hours – online Turkish news fora, Turkish newspapers, email with friends – and of course Twitter and Facebook. We, along with our friends and family quickly realized that a true people’s movement was afoot – some might say almost a revolution and some might say a precursor to Civil War. I suppose others might say it is a flash in the pan. It remains to be seen how these events (which have rolled across Turkey way beyond Istanbul) will proceed.

Image by Liz Cameron

Image by Liz Cameron

My husband, usually a loud, gregarious and friendly person appeared to me to be sinking farther and farther inside himself, and the couch, eyes glued to laptop – with the occasional seemingly heated conversation with a Turkish friend or family member (I say seemingly as all conversations with Turkish friends or family members in the 10 years we have been together sound heated – even if they are about where one can buy the best red pepper or baklava).

Over these past 10+ days, I have seen M.’s eyes take on a somber tone, bereft of the usual rougue-ish glitter that is generally present. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to process, he just wanted me to sit with him. I watched as his fingertips typed all the faster on his laptop – with about 10 tabs of the Internet open for each of the Turkish newspapers across the political spectrum – Milliyet, Today’s Zaman, Radikal, Hurriyet Daily News, etc.

On that first Friday night, we stayed up much of the night watching the Internet – nothing about the protest was covered on US television that we could see. We sleepily watched the beginnings of the throngs of protestors walking across one of Istanbul’s massive bridges from the Asian side of the city to the European side of the city. And as we watched, I realized that it was not just worry about one’s home country that I was watching – it was echoes of what I believe to be M.’s post traumatic stress disorder from his own terrifying interaction with Turkish police during one of the three coup d’états he has lived through.

I knew better than to ask him about it, I knew he would not want to talk about it. And what he experienced was a drop in the bucket compared to friends of his who were detained for long periods, and tortured terribly. As dawn broke through our New England living room window, we continued to watch the now thousands of protesters pouring out from around the city towards Taksim Square, to support the original #OccupyGezi protesters.

“I am so worried for them,” he said “I think the police will beat them when they get to the other side.”

“But canım (dear), There are so many people! It looks like thousands and thousands of people crossing that bridge, don’t you think that offers some safety?”

At this point, Hacivad Bey, the learned Sufi elder puppet who resides in my head (read more about that here if you think I’m tripping on acid), well he just stroked his beard, he’s seen a lot in his life. “M’lady, he said to me, he could be right. Don’t dissuade him, just be quiet and listen.”

Karagöz, our resident agent provocateur puppet, on the other hand whooped and hollered in agreement with my husband. “Yep,” he said “they’ll all get the serious beat down.”

The little chorus of dancing lady puppets who reside in my purse cowered and trembled and shook. But the air of empowerment seemed to infiltrate the bowels of the purse.

After a time, I began to hear a great clattering and clanging coming from my purse – those little ladies were making a fantastic rhythm with their spoons and pots and pans and çay bardağı Much as many of the residence in the houses of Istanbul (& many other cities) are doing every night for 11 days – when they were not venturing into the street.

Esma, our hippie puppet rummaged around the house for a gas mask and transported herself back to Istanbul – soon enough we saw her at the front of the march coming from Kadıköy across the bridge – a little tiny puppet in a rose petal dress fist held high, yelling “Hükumet istifa!” (“Government, resign!”).

Kenne, the Queen of manners and maintenance of ladylike behavior puppet stuck her head up high, pursed her lips and through her nose said “how that puppet lived in the Ottoman court I’ll never know – she’s just so oppositional and non-ladylike! ”

As the large group (and large is an understatement) made it towards the end of the bridge We breathe a sigh of relief as the people were allowed to pass. We watched streams and streams and streams of people – men, women, children, conservative religious, traditional, modern, miniskirt wearing – everybody crossing the bridge – all captured on a live stream video handheld by our only news source, a citizen Broadcasting on the Internet. As the days went on (and on) we heard more of the story and realized that this was indeed not an organized uprising of the people – a true people’s movement. My husband has tears in his eyes much of the time – but only the ones a wife would notice without mentioning them.

“I am relieved that we are not there, “he said quietly, referring to our trip, cancelled for my own health reasons two days before the riots started “because I would worry so about your health and the pain that you are experiencing, “but I am so sad not to be there, to miss this historical moment.”Knowing that I didn’t need to say it, but feeling guilty, I quietly responded with “canım please go if you need to – I support you 100%. ” And I meant it. My husband is not a fan of nationalism. He hates flags. He hates nationalistic politics. He hates the danger that can come with nationalism. He wishes he did not have to be affiliated with any state. Idealist, I know, but to see this hint of nationalism and pride surprised me in some ways and did not in others.

karagoz tayyip erdogan occupy gezi liz cameronFor years, you see, M. has had a maudlin attitude about Turkey whenever we are there – “Everything is different,” he says angrily sometimes, “it’s not like it used to be – the traffic is awful, the smog is oppressive, there are too many people everywhere, the trash is everywhere, there McDonald’s restaurants, the old meyhane (local restaurants) are gone, where is the Turkey I know and love? ” Underneath much of this mouthy protest, I believe, has been his fear that what occurred in Iran during his formative years – namely the Islamist fundamentalist uprising – could occur in Turkey. He has never been a fan of the current party in power (the AKP) and is a supporter of the Turkish Green Party, although, Turkish nationals residing out of the country are not allowed to vote in absentia.

I began to realize that what my husband was experiencing before my eyes was an awakening of sorts – or perhaps a new level of awakening. We began to see graffiti and protest signs in Istanbul saying things such as “I was drunk for 10 years, and when the Prime Minister Erdoğan banned alcohol from 10 PM to 6 AM I sobered up and realized this reality sucks. ” Although these signs and slogans were somewhat in gest, they hold a nugget of truth about what’s going on. People have had enough of the slow introduction of increasingly restrictive Islamist-oriented policies and regulations, of the large number of journalists detained without charge in many cases – and more that you can read about.

Image by Liz Cameron

Image by Liz Cameron

As Nazim Hikmet, the famous Turkish writer said, “one tree falls, one nation rises.” All of this has been unexpected – for Turks – for people worldwide – and for how our relationship handles times of crisis. It is a learning moment for us all – and we are all standing on the tip of the #OccupyGezi iceburg.

Posted in Cross-cultural learning moments, On Islam and Muslims, Turkish Controversies, Turkish-American Matters, Turklish Moments, Visits from the Karagöz puppets | Tagged , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

The Karagöz puppets are çapuling from bed rest!


Image by Liz Cameron

Image by Liz Cameron

Arkadaşlar – Friends,

I’m trying hard to make a slowly by slowly come back… I’m feeling very sick and awaiting surgery without a set date due to insurance problems. As I lie here in bed in pain I am entertaining myself by watching the goings on in Turkey – which feel quite revolutionary. Most of you will know what I am talking about – but in case you don’t Hacivad Bey & I will sum it up for you here:

(Karagöz is impatient – just protest – forget blogging – time only for çapuling!)

Only roughly 2% of Istanbul’s geographical area is green space. One tiny park in the center of Istanbul, Gezi Parkı, became at risk of being razed at the order of Prime Minister Erdoğan.

A small number of protesters began a sit-in, occupy movement-style. They were gassed early-morning a week ago – leading to larger and larger protests w/ thousands upon thousands of people streaming towards the city center from the European and Asian sides of the city. The sheer numbers of people walking across the bridges from the Asian side to the European side of Istanbul over the Bosporus strait were staggering.

Image by Liz Cameron

Image by Liz Cameron

This small environmental protest became the straw that broke the camel’s back (so to speak) for many in Turkey around issues of government repression vis a vis veiling, sales of alcohol, media repression and more. As the famous Turkish writer and poet Nazim Hikmet said years ago,
“one tree fell, one nation rose!” And indeed, it appears this has happened, albeit perhaps for slightly more than 50% of the population. Turkey is split fairly evenly as I understand it between secularists & more conservative practitioners of Islam.

Responses to these peaceful protests have been stunningly brutal on the part of the police who have used tear gas and pepper gas and water cannons with abandon. Our friends have been gassed and at times the gas has so saturated the air across the city that our friends have had to flee their apartments because they could not breathe.

We have watched a video of police brutality on M.’s Home street – where we can see the family building which he grew up in and which is still part of the family. Can you imagine watching a revolution take place on your home street? There were pools of blood on the street – it was very disturbing.

There are many light moments though, that I have watched on my iPad – videos highlighting the amazing creativity and humor of Turks in the face of such a difficult situation. One of my favorite graffiti lines said “please send more pepper gas – it’s good for the complexion.” Of course, after Prime Minister Erdoğan Referred to the protesters as çapulcular – Which can be translated as bombs, looters, rioters, troublemakers, etc. – The people have taken back the word and made it into their own. Slogans such as “I am çapuling every day” or “I çapul, Therefore I am” are commonly seen in graffiti around the city now.

So far, it appears that the AKP governing party has not budged very much in response to this major popular movement – a popular movement that is burgeoning way beyond Istanbul in many cities all over Turkey including for example Bursa, Eskişehir, Antakya,
Tunceli, Diyarbakır, Rize, İzmir & Ankara Among many more. We hear that almost all of the 81 provinces in Turkey are experiencing protest – not mostly nonviolent protest. It saddens us that the United States television media especially seems to focus only on Istanbul – although it’s a bit better today.

In any case, Karagöz And the whole theater puppet crew resident here in the bed with me have one message for you:

“Viva çapuling & power to all the çapulcular worldwide – may good sense, compromise, reason and peace abound as we move forward in these difficult days.”

20130608-150934.jpg

Posted in On writing about my life with the Karagöz puppets, Turkish Controversies, Visits from the Karagöz puppets | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Keşmekeş II: When life gives you limonlar…


20130220-124119.jpgYet again, Slowly-by-slowly has been off the grid with major health problems with pain that has made it hard to read, write or do much of anything. Without wallowing in self pity too much, I must say that my life is still somewhat described by the Turkish word keşmekeş. You can read a little more about that by clicking here. Yesterday, my doctor talked to me about the concept of “radical acceptance” – So here I am!

…And so it was with great jubilation a few months ago that I opened a large heavy box sent to me by my family in the Southwest – to find about 25 lemons! In the United States we have a saying, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade! What better antidote for keşmekeş? Given the keşkemeş that’s rolling in our beloved Turkey right now, may this be a diversion. I’ll do my best to post on that tomorrow as I’m so tired of being tired, done with isolating myself and pained of being pained as I wait for a big & unexpected surgery! No whingeing allowed, as the Brits might say!

So, back to the limonlar, as trite as this saying may be, and it has become an overused phrase, seeing the lemons tumble out across my dining room table sure gave me a giggle (or three). And my family knows that I am always up for a cooking challenge. One of my major coping mechanisms is to cook like a whirling dervish (when İ can manage it, which has not been for months) as my husband puts it. And in February, with these lemons rolling around on my table I had the perfect opportunity to go the limon crazy!

But I was not the only one to go limon crazy…Karagöz, well, he went wild as well. Why, you may ask, would Karagöz go wild at a box of lemons? Well, in traditional versions of the Karagöz Oyunlari, as some of you may know, there is a longstanding feud between Karagöz and Hacivad – about anything and everything.

In my own world of Karagöz puppetry, these two generally steer clear of any puppet battles (you can read about some of my puppet battles by clicking here). But they do erupt once in a while. And these lemons were the start of it all….as the tension between Karagöz the oppositional trickster and Hacivad Bey the learned Sufi elder had been brewing for some time (from opposite ends of the house, usually)…it was ready to rock. And it started like this:

20130220-124146.jpgKaragöz began the banter, saying “finally, something fun to play with – let’s have a futbol match” while kicking the lemons around the table, some of which dropped on the floor and got bruised. Our dog came up and sniffed them before determining that they were not good to eat.

Hacivad Bey entered the room with a gallant leap down the stairs “Stop ruining these regal citrus fruits – we must put them to good use!” careening around the table after the futbol-mad Karagöz, Hacivad Bey proclaimed “I will be a human shield for these, our fruity brethren and sistren!”

Karagöz and Hacivad battle over lemons (Image by Liz Cameron)

Karagöz and Hacivad battle over lemons (Image by Liz Cameron)

Karagöz hooted – “Oh – you old softy – what antiquated language you are using – why do you care a whit about lemons?” And before I could say a word, Hacivad Bey was covered in a pile of lemons, with only his legs showing, if you really looked hard. Meanwhile, Karagöz did a headstand on top of the pile.

Soon, the rest of the puppets ensnared Karagöz and rescued Hacivad Bey – only to engage in a debate about what to do with the lemons.

 

20130220-124225.jpgChoosing an egalitarian route, the lemons were used proportionately to the votes of all the puppets:

10 lemons went to a lemon souffle (see recipe here)

5 lemons went to a lemon glaze for lemon zest muffins (see recipe here)

5 lemons went to lemon-almond shortbread cookies with lemon glaze (see recipe here)

5 lemons were squeezed into ice cube trays for use throughout the rest of the winter season

And then, all were full of limon goodness, and fell asleep in a happy pile.

So thank you once again, family, for sending me this magic box of sunny yellow happiness! I know that it got me through some of the worst of my keşmekeş!

Posted in A Karagöz puppet battle, Turkish Food!, Visits from the Karagöz puppets | Tagged , , , , , , , | 17 Comments