Sitting at hafiz mustafa, a [Turkish] delight-full "şekerlemeleri"(bakery/confiserie) which is located a few steps away from Istanbul's main train station. Drinking black tea and eating pistachio ... Tel kadayisi (According to the "brief guide and information section of my city map: "Threaded dough stuffed with pistachios and walnuts, soaked in syrup.") after an afternoon of tourism in the Sultanahmet.
I had a challenging afternoon. I visited the Great Topkapi Palace; and for a sum of reasons, I felt kinda shitty... kinda angry.
What was going with me? I had a marvelous morning at Ezgi's flat, had fresh orange juice and did yoga and everything, why couldn't I feel excited and amazed by this Great Palace, now a museum to the Sultans of the late Ottoman Empire.
Perhaps I was frustrated because I felt that I couldn't get it.
A parade of sultans and their generals, in great robes and precious stones, halls of marble, courts. A harem! (I imagine that allowing a group of women to bind and play together would be a good and powerful thing to do!) But I found out that there was an extra entrance fee to see the harem section of the Great Palace... and that pissed me off.
Or I could look at the discrepancy between my expect ions/wishes about Istanbul being a warm place and the windy, cold and rainy morning that greeted me outside the door.
Or I could say that it was difficult to appreciate the grandeur and glory of the Palace, because it just represented so much of that which I seem to be fighting against: imperialism... patriarchy... militarism...
What can I say? That stuff just triggers me.
It must be a shadow side of me...
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I was in this same place "hafiz" at 8am, yesterday morning, after that forty hour long train ride that took me from Prague to Istanbul.
I am barely keeping up with myself.
I thought I'd write a whole lot during my train ride, but I still felt a bit too overwhelmed to find the words. I am trying to pull myself out of that state, because I have so much to say.
There was more I wanted to say about Prague. I wanted to write about delicious hot wine to warm cold days. I wanted to write about being offered a free beer as part of a play I went to see (literally, just see, since I couldn't understand what they were saying! But it was movement theater, so it was all good.). I wanted to write about beer pride, about smokey pubs in labyrinthine tunnels, and Czech reggae music. I wanted to write about Stephanie (Swiss) and Martin (Czech), who met while she studied circus and him international politics... in Quebec city! I wanted to muse over Czech psychology and the way it is reflected in their sense of humor and their art. I wanted to process more of my feelings within that famous central European capital, but I was too much in the process to be able to find the words.
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| "Dancing Building" Prage |
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| Prague's TV Tower! It was built (1985-92), created by controversial artist David Cerny... |
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| ... complete with vertically crawling faceless babies! |
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| Parodic sculptur of a famous Prague icon. I'm told it's typical Czech dark humor. |
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| Main train station. |
And then there was the train ride. I transferred twice, once in Budapest, and once in Belgrade. I have heard that Budapest is a gorgeous city; but with only one hour of lay-over, all I saw was a Burger King and an H&M.
I wanted to write about my encounter with Filip, from Belgrade. He was a tall and strong Serbian guy, who at twenty-four years old had already fought three wars. He was coming back home after a weekend of partying in Novi Sad and seemed eager to practice his English with a pretty young Canadian woman. He offered me a sip of Serbian "rakia", and for a moment I pondered the situation: sitting in a train cabin in the middle of the Balkans, alone with this guy... but his heart was good, I could tell. And so I took a sip of his national drink, as a gesture.
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| Filip and I. |
I need to do some research about Serbia, Kosovo, and Yugoslavia.
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| Where is Carmen SanDiego? |
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| A typo or just another worldview? Belgrade. Serbia. |
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| Some World Trade Center are more humble than others. |
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| Train travels allow us to see the landscape change... |
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| Border of Serbia and Bulgaria, and for the eighth time they walk on board for "Passport Kontrol" |
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| Québec, (philosopher? clown? writer?) Istanbul (our wonderful generous and happy wagon... ''abba'.'), Paris (quitting his economy degree to go be a mechanic in Sydney), Bulgaria (getting her Ph.d in Dentistry in Turkey), Italy (architect and prophet)... Humans. |
I also wanted to write about Nicola and Melina from Milano, and about the economical crisis and the truth behind the capitalist money system (contrarily to what many people assume, money is produced/printed - and thus controlled - by private banks, and NOT by our governments. This implies... ), and television and mind control and consciousness elevation and the lifting of the veil...
But time does not stop.. (and my laptop battery is running low!)
And now I'm in Istanbul.
First impressions? Another cryptic language I wouldn't mind letting myself fall in love with. The joy of finding a Bay Area sister here, of deepening a relationship and mirroring each other, the transitional space we are both in (post San Francisco and growing into adulthood, dreaming of revolution and justice.)
Rainy and cold whether. Unexpected. And I miss the sunshine.
Mosques sprouted here and there, outstanding sights with their tall pillars the symbolism of which I am very curious about. And I also wonder if mosks have become invisible to the secular muslim eye, the same way that thousands of christian churches are ignored everyday by people living in the West. They are just part of the landscape, relics of times gone. Is it different here?
Istanbul is the only city in the world that stands halfway in the West and halfway in the East.
The Sea! How good it is to be with her, after living in Germany - surrounded by land- for a while. Moving depths.
There are many stray cats and dogs walking the streets of Kadiköy, on the Asian Side where Ezgi lives. Fresh fruits and vegetables. Desserts.
Full circles.
Spirals.
And thoughts on becoming a drama therapist, and growing a lot of my own food, and living within an intentional community...
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