Breaking out of the glass box: The Karagöz puppets rejoice

Posted on June 4, 2012 by lizcameron

Glass Mystery 4

Glass Mystery 4 – an image akin to my glass prison (Photo credit: cobalt123)

Lately, I’ve been immobilized inside a midnight-blue and burnt sienna glass box, with walls so thick that the voices of the puppets have been obscured.  

Those Karagöz puppets, They finally plastered a sign onto that imprisoning glass with rose of Damascus oil, such as that explained by the famous Archers of Okçular,  their glue of choice, and while I couldn’t smell that unctuous lovely stuff, I could read the sign and I knew what they were doing.  And as I peered into the dim dark of thr deep blue glass around me, akin to Mexican blown glass cups, I saw that it said:

“Dear Liz, We miss you, and furthermore, you are unintentionally allowing your work and personal situations result in blog death! Yavaş yavaş you must return! Love, Karagöz and company.”

Esma, the kind and gentle hippie puppet also posted a tiny sign written in her delicate hand, recommending rose petal tea – and a trip to the shrink.  Suffice it to say, it’s been a tough month or so.

But this morning, I awoke to the red light of a beating heart – and to a distant sound, a familiar sound that I could not place in my jet lagged, sleepy state.  I had already heard the call to prayer at circa 4:30 a.m.,  but this was a “tink, tink, tink” sound that did not fit in with the wavering voice of the Imam.  I recognized it as the sound of a glass cutter – a small instrument with a sharp wheel that I used to use in my stained glass course in the 7th grade.  It must be one massive glass cutter, I thought, for them to attempt to break through these glass walls.

Soon, the “tink, tink and tink” sound became more like a “tonk, crick, crack, crunch, crash” set of sounds and I began to hear bits and snitches of the voices I had been yearning to hear – Karagöz, Hacivad, Esma, Mercan Bey and even Kenne, The Queen of Manners and Ladylike Behavior.  As the fresh, rose-scened air filled the box in which I was imprisoned, my pen and papers began to float and swirl away from me in the vacuum-breaking air confusion that the glass breakers were creating…and all of those work worries slipped away.

Sensing my dehydration, the little chorus of dancing ladies propped up tiny glasses of sweet Rize cayı to my lips as Hacivad Bey and Mercan Bey worked on freeing my arms from the metallic shackles residing there.  I felt a hey and stiff.As my arms were released, Karagöz jumped and twisted in joy, shaking my hands back to life as he did so, jabbering and jibbering the whole way about all the troupe had done whilst I was immobilized. Some of the puppets gave up for a bit, as it turns out, opting for a vacation to their home territory of Bursa, where they inhabited the good archers of Okçular for a time, but Esma and the dancing ladies kept vigil at the glass box.

“Don’t lose your words, m’lady,” Esma whispered, “so much is going on in this great world that you need to comment on – even you can make the long journey back from the blog death puppet’s door!”

And journey back I shall, but not first without apologies to the loyal readers who have supported me so!  Keep it locked for the colors of Istanbul as experienced by the puppets, yesterday.  Gurusuruz!

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Posted in Karagöz puppets in dreamland, On writing about my life with the Karagöz puppets | Tagged , , , , | 7 Comments

Mozzarella Mamma Rolls into Istanbul

Posted on April 27, 2012 by lizcameron

Ortaköy Mosque, along the Bosphorus, in Istanb...

Ortaköy Mosque, along the Bosphorus, in Istanbul, Turkey. Français : La Mosquée Ortaköy, sur le Bosphore, à Istanbul (Turquie). Türkçe: Büyük Mecidiye Camii (Ortaköy Camii). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As one half of a  Turkish-American marriage, I am always interested in other people’s experiences in the living of a cross-cultural life. And as you may have gathered,  I have a troupe of traditional yet modern Karagöz shadow puppets who have assigned themselves to me in order to help me navigate my Turkish-American life.  That is what this blog is all about – a little bit reality and a little bit fantasy.

While I take the sci-fi meets anthropologist approach to documenting my experiences in between cultures, another blogger takes a more straightforward approach.  One of my favorite blogs on cross-cultural married life is written by Trisha Thomas, the author of Mozzarella Mamma: Deadlines, Diapers and the Dolce Vita.  Trisha dishes on all things mamma, all things wife and all things journalist as she balances the care of her three kids – with panache and wit.  However, at the moment, she is enjoying Istanbul, which you can read about by clicking here. Looks like she has ascertained that female Istanbullus are giving Romans a run for their money on the wearing of high heels and that there are more than one pimples on the face of Turkey’s current strong economic and political reality…I’ll leave the rest to her.

Enjoy Istanbul, Trisha and Gustavo!

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Living in the blue light of the Write-a-Matrix

Posted on April 27, 2012 by lizcameron

Blue light exposure

Blue light exposure (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Upon my return from the conference in Oregon (and yes, I did get the “special treatment” package from TSA, but it was fine), the puppets and I were startled awake by the dog at the side of the bed, who was running excitedly from our room to the dining room table, where flashes of blue light seemed to be emanating.  I really could not be sure, as I was mostly asleep and my eyes were not working right.  I wanted to turn back over and keep sleeping, but Karagoz and the entire troupe nudged me out of bed and made me walk into the dining room.

And there we stood, me, the dog, Karagoz, Esma, Kenne, Hacivad and all the rest, looking at the rounded-square shaped characters crawling out of the computer screen.  One by one, those oddly-shaped electronic tumbleweeds clip-clopped onto the table, down onto the floor until they surrounded us, each one of us, with their tinny but deep blue electricness and before I knew it, I was sitting in an armchair made of those oddly-shaped laptop-induced beings, typing away at all hours of the night just to keep up as my days at work had grown so long.

I became so enmeshed in those lights that they carried me through the days of meetings and classes and more meetings that left my head throbbing and tired despite chugging on day-quil to keep what must be a sinus infection at bay.  I could see the puppets waving and yelling at me through the blue silence that was at the same time a din – but I could not understand what they were saying other than “when are you going to come back?” and “we haven’t been able to deliver tea to you in days – you should really stop with the Starbuck’s green tea lattes and Dunkin Donuts creamy coffee in the drive through – you can’t survive on oatmeal, bananas, bagels and cream cheese, you know” and “your husband misses you.”

Suffice it to say, the Write-a-Matrix has found some keen allies in these tiny blue electric beings, but they are not long for this world.  Their power source is fading like the electric lamp in the projector in my classroom and their jig is going to be up soon.  My students end-of-year thesis presentations are tomorrow and this will be a major turning point back to life as we know it!  Done will be the student tears, angst, gnashing of teeth and arguing.  Done will be the battling for rooms large enough to accommodate our audiences.  Done will be the endless stream of complaints about the presentation schedule, the fact that I, the alleged toughest grader in the school (so say my students), will moderate their presentation and ask “a scary question.” Done will be the after-party celebration with  my students at our local camp-o-rama Fantasty Island tiki bar.  It will all be done and it will be time to go home and reconnoiter with my puppets and more importantly my people.  I can see the puppets reading my mind behind the electronic barrier – and they are jumping with joy at the idea of coming back soon!

Posted in A Karagöz puppet battle, Academic hell | Tagged , , | 2 Comments